


Earn Your Honor

by Crystalina



Series: Earn Your Honor [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 84,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalina/pseuds/Crystalina
Summary: In between the Taken threat and fighting the urge to enter an ongoing Crucible match to hit a Guardian over their head with a weapon they can’t shoot a damn’s worth with, there is a higher chance of The Cabal attacking The City, than Shaxx having any free time to be social with his peers. That is until an uncontrollable force comes along.Takes place in the middle of Taken King story.





	1. The First Day

Shaxx had a lot of fans.

Not even he himself was going to deny that. It’s one of those perks that come with being in a position of power, not to mention a hero of The City. There are some that admire him for his heroics, and a rather large part happens to admire certain other things. Things that include, quoted and altered for vulgarity, “The attractive voice in the sky”.

Sometimes he swears that if he wasn’t constantly wearing his helmet, there would be no skin left on the bridge of his nose because of rubbing it in annoyance. He couldn’t decide what was worse; fighting the urge to enter an ongoing Crucible match to hit a Guardian over their head with a weapon they can’t shoot a damn’s worth with, or dealing with these blasted infatuations.

He gets quite a bit of letters, shifting from thought out confessions to just outright immature rambling, but the thought of responding to them never crosses his mind. Dregs, all of them. On top of that there would be too many headache-inducing accusations of bias, pleads for better loot, and maybe worst of them all, even more sly comments from Cayde-6. The Guardians are complaining enough about not getting good loot as it is, he doesn't need more problems. Foremost of all, someone who is The Crucible, would not have the time for let alone a friendship, save for a relationship. At this point, there is a higher chance of The Cabal attacking The City, than Shaxx having any free time.

So, the Titan stands tall. Hands on hips making him taller when talking to other Guardians not worthy of his respect. Making the most too scared to talk about anything not Crucible related, greeting the guardians with short responses, and in some cases, staring them down until they go away after looking at his inventory for far too long. There have been coups planned - mostly led by Cayde - to get him to remove his helmet though.

It was getting late now, but there was always something to finish; a report to write for Zavala, give a snide look at Cayde-6 who couldn’t weld his Exo mouth shut about how he ran through the Crucible as if it was a stroll to the Tower’s bar, wondering whether Eris will turn The Speaker into a Hivelord by accident, telling new Guardians that the Crucible maps are off limits to anything but fighting. There was always more to be done. This night was no different.

The night silence was swiftly broken by hesitant footsteps. No attempt to be quiet, though.

Slight chirping echoed through the halls. “Hey, I’m just curious…” Came a robotic, chirpy voice from the stairs. “How are you going to explain that all to Shaxx?”  
There was that feeling again, the itch on his nose. He’s been watching too many Crucible matches, he keeps telling himself. Ever since he opened up some Crucible areas to Guardians for practice, there has been an ongoing bout of “technical issues”.

“I was hoping that my – erm- Little Light would gleefully announce it as we’re walking down the stairs to face the Lord himself!” It was a woman’s voice getting closer and closer, obviously hiding her annoyance.

She snuck into view after a moment. An Awoken, clad in slightly scratched Warlock robes. Glowing skin with a blue hue, and red contrasting hair was in an unkempt bun, the fringe constantly falling infront of her eyes. Evidently she just returned from battle. Her eyes lit up with what came off as fake glee when she laid her eyes on Shaxx. They always used that technique. At least she didn’t bat her lashes.

“Hey, Big Guy!” The woman smirked, an obvious mischievous deed hidden behind it. He has seen her before, hanging out with Cayde and the other Vanguards, and being part of the Fireteam that shut down the Black Garden. She never seemed to brag about that around the parts, though. Usually when she strikes up a chat with Shaxx it’s for business, occasionally with a goofy comment or two. Or three.

Her heroics didn’t phase Shaxx, however. “What do you need, Guardian?”

“Well…” She cast a look at her Ghost before continuing with slight discomfort. “You know that one map, with portals and stuff? With the flying?” She said, flailing her hands in an attempt to illustrate it.  
He sighed. “The Crossroads.” Shaxx added, knowing exactly where this was going as this was certainly not the first time "it" was attempted. And the least the Guardians can do is know the names of the blasted maps.

“Yep, that one.” She sighed and bit her lower lip before looking back at him again. She seemed far too nervous for someone who supposedly done such heroic deeds. “I and a couple of people in my fireteam may have, just MAY have discovered a security… uh, rather safety-“  
“I would gladly appreciate if you got to the point, Guardian. Wasting my time is no way to impress me.” She was abruptly cut off, the nervous act along with it. He just wanted to get this conversation done.

“We goofed up and you’re the only person that can fix it.” She pointed to his console with one hand, rubbing her eyes with the other.

He knew better than to bother with it and to not dismiss it outright, but he checked it out anyway. It could be a problem that prevents further Crucible usage and that means that it’s his problem. Shaxx scowled at the sight on the screen: two guardians, hovering in the air between the portals, as if stuck in a glitch. They seemed to be engaging in casual conversation that was inaudible.  
“We needed somewhere to practice, using a Super between portals was a genius id-“ She stopped herself. “Can-you-just-help-them-out?” The hurried mess of words almost left her breathless, and Shaxx can’t say that he was seen this particular maneuver before, but still, measures had to be taken.

He still wasn’t sure why she was bothering him. “Easiest would have been for one of you to shoot them, or to go to Orbit. Hasn’t stopped other Guardians. ” Shaxx stated. “I can shut the portals down.”  
The woman asked no questions as to how he was even going to do it. Shaxx did have a reputation, and the assumption most people reached was that he yelled at things until they obeyed him. He was known for being a man who when asked to find a way around the mountain would just hurl a Fallen Walker at it to flatten the area.

The woman gave a shrug. “We tried that, long story involving long stories. And thank you.”

“But this will be your final warning when it comes to… adventures like this in off-limits areas. I shouldn’t have to remind you Guardians of the opening and closing times.” He dictated, but it was evident that the woman didn’t need to get told that. With one press of a button, the match was forfeited, and trouble resolved.

“Well then, that’s settled.” Her Ghost said. “Can we go now?”

“What? Are you feeling competition with the Big Guy’s Big Light?” She was awfully proud of herself of that one until casting a glance to Shaxx. “Uh, I mean Lord Shaxx’ Gho—Thank you, we’ll be going now.” She gave a small wave before scuttling away.

Another good perk of the helmet, you’ll always look scary no matter what your smirk behind it may show others. One downside is that you don’t notice sneaky, annoying, rogues due to the helmet blocking your vision.

“Hey, Big Guy!” And there the gleeful expression went, because of one damned Exo who heard the whole conversation, who may one day get hit by a flying Fallen skull.


	2. The Reset Day

And so, the reset began.

The second day of the week, where Guardians run amok, grabbing bounties and checking out what everyone has for sale, like vultures. The Tower preparing for another iteration of “How much verbal abuse can the Cryptarch take before he snaps?”, followed by “How to express your hatred for the New Monarchy's Armor Selection in 35 excessive ways”, and let’s not forget the, “Why does Shaxx give out such awful bounties? No self-respecting Guardian would use a fusion rifle in battle, what the hell?”

It was fun for everyone, and it’s probably the only day of the week where the Lord Shaxx himself gets _exhausted,_ and it's not because of all the heavy lifting. He can’t tell certain things to Guardians the way it would be the most effective, he has to follow rules to _some_ extent. As much as he would like to sternly lecture a Guardian about how in Control your main priority should be to capture the zones and not just mindlessly shoot every blasted person they see without a hint of strategy, he has to do it with _finesse_. He has to focus on being a _teacher_ to those that someday will repel the Darkness, and not repeat the same mistakes he did back then that led to utter tragedy.

So, he gives out bounties, sells weapons, sometimes gives advice, sometimes indicates to clueless Guardians that they should read the bounty that they were given before complaining incessantly. Shaxx has lost track of the amount of Guardians who believe that a melee kill counts as a primary kill.

The Crucible has forged many outstanding soldiers, but those on the opposite of the spectrum can be the loudest.

But, those lengthy rants where he can say what he truly feels are reserved for Tex Mechanica when their inevitable monthly bribe attempt comes in to “fix” Crucible matches. Haven’t heard from them in a while, though. Not ever since he threatened to send 6 Titans to break into their headquarters.

The Vanguard were knee deep planning how to stop the Taken threat. Oryx, the God-King of the Hive had arrived to seek revenge for his slain son. He alone held the power to bend other races to his will. This meant that the demand for new and better weapons and armor was constantly high. 

Needless to say, Shaxx is always happy when the dust settles. When he gets to turn it all off, and slip away before he gets another reminder that Saladin will be coming soon, or Guardians that lack skills to prioritize things best suited for tomorrow. Reports are finished, stock restocked with weapons, just one more check of the cameras.

“Big guy!”

There was always the one Guardian who had no sense of time.

“Anything you need, Guardian?”

It was that Awoken again. Shaxx hoped that this won’t become a regular occurrence. He couldn’t help but wonder how she and her team broke one of the maps today.

“Don’t worry, my teammates have vowed off Crucible for the next 7 hours.” She chimed, offering a slight relief to Shaxx. “The news broke out, about you letting people create own matches and things got out of hand. Sorry.” She finished with a shrug. He did expect tomfoolery with the announcement, but strangely enough other Guardians had thought up even more horrid plans than what she and her friends had. He can’t oversee all the matches, and the Guardians need all the training they can get.

“The apology is hardly necessary. But if all we’ve got is relentless childish adventures, the Darkness may as well come and take this place. I am willing to let one little mishap slide. It was an issue I need to get the Frames to reprimand, after all.” He turned off all the consoles at his desk as he talked, ensuring that no pesky Guardians or associates could sabotage things.

The Warlock started to pace around the hall, as if searching for something or someone, almost giving the impression that she's there to do some mischief. She called defeat quickly.

“I love it. These people send me out to do things with no plans to be here when I report in.” Letting out a half dramatic huff, she spun around on her heel and faced the Titan.

“You know, it’s hard to take The Crucible seriously when you jump into it after getting chased by Taken for hours. Invisible Taken. Size of a building. Teleporting. And you’re out of heavy ammo. And there is no one to tell you that heavy ammo is available.” She used hand gestures for extra effect to her words as she rambled out the story, which was was more dramatic in her head. "Venus is terrifying."

He raised an eyebrow underneath his helmet. “Warlock, do I even want to know what your point is?”

“Guardians are bored, and scared and miserable. I’m not saying that you should let people goof around like children, but see how people can fare against utter chaos. Wake people up!” 

His confinement to the Tower makes it hard to keep up with the atrocities Oryx conjures, and he _almost_ took offense to her stating that Guardians were bored of the Crucible. Some Guardians are usually put through enough as it is, but they still need to _learn_. They need to learn tactics, teamwork. He has certainly heard that complaint before but she is the first one to bring it up in front of him. 

After a moment he spoke. “I see. Any more suggestions?”

As per usual, the Warlock couldn't tell if he was being serious, but her work was done. “Tell fellow Titans that Fist of Havoc is meant to be used on multiple targets and not as a sneak attack on a poor, pretty, Warlock?” She smirked as she slowly backed off, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Does he really come off too serious, too harsh? His intent was not to repel people away. 

Twelve Guardians in an arena punching each other down does not compare to outsmarting a horde of Taken, and a mass of miserable Guardians do not make good soldiers. Over the past few weeks there has been a steady decline in their performance, and it seems to correlate with the panic that Oryx had brought with him. 

Shaxx took issue with the fact that she was right, but he _knew_ that she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters are going to be a bit short as I build up the world a little bit.


	3. Armsday

Armsday. Banshee-44’s favorite day.

The day where Banshee-44 can be found fighting the urge to fry the transistors in his head until his day ends sometime in the middle of the night. Borderline ridiculous amount of orders to be both taken and delivered on one hand, and people field testing the new weapons on the other hand. The Exo can’t claim that he hates the job, but it can be relentless, as evidently “Omolon” must stand for “We’re late as always” in Fallen speak. The old Exo never knew what incompetence was and what an attempt at sabotage was, which added an extra level of paranoia to his work.

That day. And it’s probably Shaxx’ favorite day as it veers attention from him an extra hour. It’s not that he enjoys slacking, quite the opposite. There are still Crucible matches to be narrated, messages to questionable merchants programmed into Arcite 99-40, preparation for Osiris plans, and business as usual, except a fraction calmer. For Shaxx, a fraction is more than enough.

Her name was left on the logs of the broken match the other day. Funny how even though she has semi-hero status in the vicinity, she’s still a mystery to most. In reality, the case was that most people cared more about her doing things for them, than caring about who she is. People tend to feel feelings they don’t want to feel when they realize that their tool is actually a living being. For a lot of people, it’s best for a tool to be a tool, to just refer to it with a title.

And that’s why he got curious.

Her name was Tirion, no last name. Awoken. A Warlock. Excellence out in the field but rather mediocre performance in her Crucible matches. Never being the best but never placing last either. No chemistry or attempt at teamwork with other Guardians, which ultimately was her downfall.

At least she was considerate enough to take up his time when he wasn’t busy. She had potential but no motivation to use that potential. Reason for that is a riddle.

This one is going to be a headache, and Shaxx knew it. He could of course ignore it, but she’s the one that’s fighting for the City, and is very persistent when it comes to him. If another Twilight Gap starts, he can’t afford mistakes like that. Now to wait for the inevitable, less annoying every time, “Hey Big Guy!” from the Warlock in question. 

Several dozen matches overseen later, no sight of her in the tower nor the Crucible. No record of bounties handed in, no travel activity. No record of her working for Banshee, either. 

A small part of him couldn’t help but feel a bit let down. Come to think of it, he could get used to a thing like that, to have a friend, of sorts. Guardians have eternal life, never aging. That kind of life does get lonely without anyone at your side. Tirion seems to be one of the few who dares strike up a proper conversation with him.

But the problem has always been time, priorities, and more important things to do. Same routine every week, just for the better good. Night once again overwhelmed the tower, reports got turned in, returning the familiar sense of Deja bloody Vu. He was close with his associates, he respected them and their feats, but the bond never went further than business, or sometimes mutual distaste.

“Cayde wants to talk.” Shaxx grunted at Arcite’s statement. “Doesn't sound happy.”

He couldn’t help but cross his arms and let out a small scoff. “Yeah, well screw him.” 

They did have their scuffles, though. His little friend received another transmission after a couple of minutes. “Cayde-6 requests a face-to-face. Bring a sidearm.”

If anything, that was a sign that he should call it a day. He wasn’t going to entertain the Exo’s antics tonight, and he wouldn’t put it beyond Cayde to storm in any time now and challenge him to a duel.  
Hunters.

Important business tomorrow, but much of it the very same. Part of him was finding the routine tedious, but it’s all for the greater good, for the future of The City, Earth, and beyond that.  
At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

He couldn’t afford to even entertain the idea of getting bored. Shaxx rubbed the back of his neck as he walked up the stairs, itching to throw the helmet off. The Tower’s altitude meant skin-biting cold nights, but the beautiful night sky made it worth it.

He noticed a familiar figure standing on a small balcony, next to the entrance to the Tower Hangar. 

Does she ever sleep? You’d think that Hunters might be more prone to pull stunts like this. Have to be Cayde’s influence, since she’s spending so much time with him as of late. Tirion was leaning on a railing, looking at The Traveler in what seemed to be awe. As if she was trying to figure out a puzzle only she knew of.

Shaxx almost didn’t want to break it. “Hey.” He initiated, making her jump and turn her head to find the source of the sound. She gave him a small wave with her gloved hand. The Titan let out a small laugh at that. “You look like you might need training, Guardian.” Shaxx stated as he slowly walked up to her.  
Smooth. Crucible things. 

Luckily, Tirion just laughed softly at that, light from all the reflections of The Traveler illuminating her smile. “You’re here to talk about how Guardians should never let threats sneak up on them?” The Warlock turned her gaze back to The Traveler. “Pay no mind to me, I’m just bored. And hiding from Cayde.”

Shaxx leaned next to her on the railing, trying to think. She was trying to knock him down a notch with the comment. He couldn’t figure out if it was arrogance or a necessity. When it comes to questioning as to why she was hiding, it was not necessary as - to some extent - he was doing the same.

“You have great talents in the field, so I know that you’ve got what it takes.” He saw the small cringe in her face after he said that. “I just wonder where it falters. You obviously know how to fight.”

Tirion let out a half-dramatic sigh at that. “Titans.” She muttered. Here she thought he wanted to strike up a conversation to discuss the political relations of The Reef. But alas, Titans. She turned her face to him and looked at the Titan, as if she was trying to see through the helmet. Her green Awoken eyes looking a bit unsettling in the dark night, almost like an animal. Concluding that there was nothing to find, she returned her gaze back to The Traveler.

“I crashed a ship today.” He failed to see how that was relevant. “So that was fun. Fought a lot of Taken and Cabal, Eris said a lot of weird stuff. Zavala got mad, scared me, and then I didn’t feel like doing Crucible after that.”

A lot of things that had went down in the Tower earlier today suddenly were far less confusing. Cayde requesting a face-to-face certainly made sense, as only a fool would take on Zavala without training. “Not sure what my point is here. Not all Warlocks are thinkers. Striking up a conversation.” There was a shiver to her voice from the cold. Warlock armor didn’t have the best insulation.

“Well. Most Warlocks I know can hold their own. There's a direct correlation between success in the Crucible and victories against the Darkness.”

Despite him speaking softly, his words almost sounded like a pre-recorded Frame, and she could tell it. It made him less believable, and his speech even less captivating. 

“My point about not all Warlocks being thinkers still stands.”

He concluded that she had to deliberately be playing stupid. The Vanguard wouldn’t trust her if she actually was an airhead. He didn’t know why they trusted her, though.  
“I want you to show me you can excel in pure combat. Then maybe I’ll consider that idea of yours.”

The last bit seemed to have done it, “Well you sure know how to light up someone’s eyes.” She almost looked disgusted at the words she said and shook her head. “Did I really just say that? I need to get away from Cayde…” Tirion grimaced.

“So, it’s a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos! <3
> 
> Next chapter will have Cayde in it. Nough said.
> 
> Also, pretty much everything Arcite says is in the game. Hilarious banter happens between Arcite and Shaxx if you stand there long enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Thursday usually had no special events besides lengthy reports between Shaxx and Brother Vance. Sometimes there was also pondering as to why Dead Orbit is still in The Tower criticizing his reports instead of finding a new orbit. An orbit that wasn’t around Shaxx.

“Hey, Shaxx. I see you been hittin’ it off with someone!” Cayde almost sounded proud. “Heh, never thought I’d see the day.”

Occasionally, it would be “ _Try to not yell at Cayde-6_ ” day.  It was as if on Thursdays, Cayde stopped seeing things in that map of his, stopped listening to Zavala’s demands that he’d stop complaining about Tower’s confinement, and decided to be social. Whether it was making bets or just being a nuisance.  

Only issue was that, since wrecking Eris’ ship yesterday, he’s a bit hesitant to go past Eris for some strolling around the Tower, and he can’t stand next to Zavala without fear, meaning Shaxx is almost at the Goldilocks part of what is called “Cayde’s Comfort Zone”. Cayde still respected Zavala, but he also respected his ability to summon flaming hammers on command.

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that.” Was the only thing Shaxx grunted out, trying to focus on the bounties turned in by Guardians, and the schedule as to when the next Crucible match supposed to happen. Anything but the Hunter.

Rahool must have said some things after witnessing Shaxx talking to Tirion. The old Awoken was always prone to talking, a lot of times unprompted. After what seemed like an hour and the Hunter being still _there_ , Shaxx sighed in exasperation. He clenched his fists and tried to concentrate on the frame next to him assembling weapons, but the main problem wouldn’t go away.

The Hunter wasn’t out of ideas.

“So you’re not talking to me just because I’m not a pretty, red headed, Awoken?”

_That_ got Shaxx to talk, but he decided to change the subject for the best.

“It’s beyond me why you don’t apologize to Eris, so you can watch that canceled show of yours instead of loitering here and bothering me.”

Oh, everyone in the tower knew about both of those things. Cayde however was unphased.

 “Oh, _oh!_ ” The hunter started. “Speaking of things that you keep letting _bother_ you, did you know that the close buddy of yours, the Warlock, was involved in wrecking that ship? She was the one flying it! So it all comes in a circle and all as to why I am bothering you.” Cayde yapped.

Shaxx is going to kill Rahool. Just straight up murder.

He couldn’t help but grind his teeth on reflex, only reason there weren’t two holes in Cayde’s head was because Shaxx’s helmet had good plating.

“What about you bothering me _before_ the ship crash occurred?” Cayde gave some thought to the remark before answering.

“Well… it’s more like a spiral that occasionally collides than a circle—but either way I thought you could help me with a thing. You owe me.”

Cayde? Asking for help? This is one of those opportunities where Shaxx wished he wasn’t on a permanent helmet wearing schedule so the world would see his flabbergasted face.

“What are you talking about, Cayde?”

“Y’know, when you were really confident that three Titans could outmatch six hunters?” Cayde will never let Shaxx forget about that one. Or any other occasional bets Shaxx has lost. "Good times. We should do that again."

“I already paid you Glimmer for that bet.”

“Yeah, well, the Glimmer never got transferred to me. So you owe me still.” Shaxx rolled his eyes as Cayde leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “How do I ah—Do that? Apologize to Eris?”

He couldn't be serious. Shaxx’s hands twitched on instinct. The thought of straight up _throwing_ the Exo towards Eris like a javelin with his bare arms did cross Shaxx’ mind. It would certainly be one solution for at least 3 problems that are constantly prominent in the Tower. But he refrained, because _finesse._

It took a moment for Shaxx to calm himself before answering.

“Of all the people here, -“ He started trough gritted teeth. “… You are asking _me_ that question?” Cayde nodded, resilient. One after-hours talk with a Guardian and suddenly he has become the expert for friendship advice?

“Cayde,” Shaxx started sternly, and was surprised at how attentively Cayde listened. “Stop leaning on my desk. The world is falling apart around us, and you've got time to daydream?”

To retaliate, Cayde almost sat down on the desk, and picked one of the many books resting on the desk, flipping through it. “Zavala asked me to ask Ikora, Ikora told me to apologize, you’re the thing in-between, and I like bugging you! And you still owe me!”

Enough of this. The next Crucible team was waiting for him to start a match and he wasn’t going to be here when Jalaal comes to personally complain.

“Well then, let me move.” Grabbing a datapad, Shaxx started to head towards the Crucible observatory, leaving Cayde behind helpless.

* * *

“It’s your problem.” Tirion said, and Cayde almost threw his arms up in the air.

“Hey, you were the one flying the ship!” Cayde pointed at the Warlock for extra emphasis. 

She was done with his antics before he even started. "I don't know, give her a gift."

“But what should I get her?”

“A Ghost?” She said without thinking about it, and immediately felt her stomach sink. Eris lost her Ghost, and her next death will be her last one. Tirion was not a people person.

“Er…” The lost Awoken stammered. “A box, with the word ‘Ship’ crudely drawn on it?”

Luckily he didn’t notice her mishap. “I could write a riddle!” Cayde said, obviously not listening, and she just looked at him in utter defeat.

“Give my Ghost shell, Cayde.”

“Listen to this; I’m a Hunter who—“ There were hand gestures and everything but she put a stop to it quickly.

“Cayde.”

Cayde let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, be ungrateful. Here it is, repaired with the enhancements you wished. But the riddle has the greatest ending, y’know.”

Tirion was on a hell bent mission to ignore him, as she took the shell from his hands, examining it carefully to see whether Cayde implemented the modifications he promised.

“Heh, I thought you’d rather go with an orange and white shell instead of a blue one.”

She glared at him for a good while. Cayde knew exactly what he was doing, knew how it annoyed people, and he enjoyed his little game.

“Hunters.” Tirion muttered as she stomped off, just in time for the other advisors to return. Cayde’s their problem now.

It is a constant surprise to everyone that the tower is still standing. But credit had to be given to Cayde from Tirion where it was due; as annoying as it was it lifted the spirits up, it made some laugh, and made some forget about their immediate problems.

Within moments Tirion was back on her ship, swiftly dropping her gear on the ground and falling down on her bed, cringing in pain as she always forgets that it’s not the softest piece of furniture. The Reef didn’t welcome her that much, and The City itself discriminated towards her kind, so she had made her ship her home. It’s not the biggest place of accommodation, not the safest either, but she was faced with very little choice. Her Ghost handles the probability of crashing into the Cosmodrome.

She hid under the covers, waiting for sleep to consume her. Up in the sky she never dreamed of the Hive. It was safe.

“So, Tirion, are you planning to return to the Crucible soon?” But sleep never happened, as her very chatty Ghost was on another schedule. During the day she either sleeps or is knee deep in Taken. Tirion opened one eye and attempted to stare the little creature down, weakly. “Shaxx was right, you know.”

She was too tired to groan.

“I will not even look at the Crucible until I am not sleep deprived.” She mumbled, trying to push herself even deeper into the mattress.

“Huh. I thought you liked looking at the Crucible very much.”

That famous quote: _I am the Crucible._

Her Ghost couldn’t have avoided the pillow faster than he did. “You too, really?”

“Ha. I’ll set the alarm for you. Get some rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DESTINY 2 REVEAL HYPE. Can't wait to see what they'll show us!
> 
> Also, I found a hilarious Firefly reference while - ironically - loitering next to Cayde...


	5. The Stubborn Lack Of Filter Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look more Crucible talk. Can't wait until she softens you up, ya big goof. (We'll finally get into some actual plot in the next chapter)

The first day of Trials of Osiris. Where Guardians fight to earn the privilege to the Lighthouse on Mercury. That meant on top of normal Crucible matches the Lord had to deal with Brother Vance and Guardians that should not be competing in the first place. He couldn’t remember how he got involved in this, besides there being a fight that consisted of Shaxx establishing the fact that _no one_ will touch the Crucible and its arenas except for him.

It wasn’t until much later in the night that Tirion remembered to return to the Tower to check in. The winter in a couple of months will be brutal, as it’s already unbearably cold during the night. She will always curse the fact that Warlocks don’t have access to armor that provides warmth. It would be a challenge to jump up into the air if the armor was too heavy. The Hall was always warm. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the heating system or the fact that the tension between two Titans, a Warlock and a Hunter in the same room constantly generated heat.

Tirion shivered as she walked down the stairs, catching Shaxx’ attention. She was hugging herself in an attempt to warm herself up.

“Warlock.” He didn’t sound particularly angry, not more than he usually does. Which is all the time. “Anything to cash in?”

“Hello to you too, big guy.” She had won a couple of matches, showing improvement in gun handling but still lacking team work. She was always a solo act when she was out in the field, didn’t bode well when faced against contrast. "I think I did okay today."

Shaxx wasn’t going to let it go, though. He liked to keep Guardians on their toes. Clash was one thing, and just doing _okay_ was not enough.

“Good. You won. Prove to me—and to yourself—it's not a fluke. Then try a Control match.”

Tirion was convinced that she could write a book of Shaxx-isms at this point, and she hated how it got her to think about how she fares in the Crucible. Control would be hitting her where it hurts, he knew that.

It was different in the field; Hive, Vex, Cabal, Taken. They operate in their own unique ways, and it’s easy to take them down. With the Hive you have to hide to avoid their projectiles, and then just quickly shoot them dead. The Vex, though powerful, are rather sluggish; giving you plenty of time to dodge and attack. Cabal might be the easiest; just shoot their hands or feet as they cower behind their shields. The Taken are just about endlessly shooting them with rockets.

But _humanoids._ They are different. Completely unpredictable, 15 minutes not being enough to see the behavioral patterns of 6 different individuals in the opposite team. They have different strategies each time, different motivations, some are very quick and agile, and some are sluggish yet deal a lot of damage. It’s like all of the Darkness minions combined. And Tirion was not especially a fan of that.

“You’re using Stormcaller, correct?” The voice pulled her out of her inner turmoil. But she still answered with a nod, rubbing the back of her neck.

“A respectful class. But you should switch to Sunsinger, with Fusion Grenades. It’ll allow for self-resurrection, and the grenades bind to your enemies.” Shaxx calmly instructed. “The grenades will wipe them out, and in case of trouble, bring yourself back to life.”

It seemed oddly out of character. “Self-resurrection in the Crucible? Aren’t you concerned about fairness?” Shaxx gave a half-hearted shrug, and focused his gaze on her.

“It is no more unfair than a Titan throwing his hammers at the opposing team, or a Hunter using her daggers to swiftly cut down the enemy team. The weapon or power does not matter, what matters most is how you use it. I’ve seen Hunters miss every shot with their Golden Guns, and Titans using their bubbles to survive against all costs to wipe all out.” Shaxx explained, getting the point across clearly. 

He made sure not to mention when an Exo Hunter managed to take down 3 Titans with a Golden Gun and Glimmer depended on it. Or the bet that he keeps postponing about his _own_ ability to outrun a Golden Gun and Glimmer depending on it. 

Tirion pursed her lips together in a frown. The problem didn’t lie with her combat skills. It was an issue he couldn’t fix. She can’t claim that she has had the opportunity to get to know _how_ actual _people_ work since she was revived two years ago. Everyone she talked to seemed to have a task for her, something they wanted, something for the greater good. 

“Well. I would attend the Crucible more, but with this whole Taken ordeal we’re dealing with... Could you by chance persuade some Taken into a match, for extra training?” She twisted her turmoil into – what she considered to be – comedy. “I know how skilled you are at yelling at things until they submit.”

She leaned on his desk as she said that and he ignored the inappropriate undertones of that comment. Though he was sure that she didn’t intend it to sound _that_ way. Even if it was, it wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with before.

“Cayde mentioned something about Eris’ ship’s destruction. That might explain a few things, and prove that Crucible might be beneficial.” There was a hint of humor in that statement. Maybe he could talk to Amanda and get some sparrows and ships into the Crucible.

“It was Cayde’s idea, it was a planned crash, and I was just flying the ship. There were stealth drives involved.” She explained. “Us Awoken tend to be destined for destructive deaths by Oryx’ Dreadnaught!” Tirion froze for a moment after saying that.

Tirion wasn’t someone who could boast about having a filter on her speech, she wasn’t a thinker. She would be more suited for a mute life with an arsenal of guns. But at the same time she didn’t want Shaxx to start planning to crash Guardians into Mercury for practice. He’d do it, too.

She didn’t even know _what_ Shaxx actually was, come to think of it. “Too soon?”

Tirion couldn’t see whether Shaxx was impressed or disappointed by that joke as his body language provided to hints either. Either way, getting trough the barrier he had built up seemed to be a no go, even if it seemed that she got close last time they talked. She tried to solve the situation with additional helpless rambling. “Well. Anyway. Long live the Queen and all that. She was prettier than me.”

Shaxx had to silently disagree on that remark. His position didn’t mean that he had to give up the ability to find people attractive. But, she felt stupid in that situation, having no control over what she was saying. Her people skills went beyond not being able to work with people in battle. Speaking to someone who was wearing a helmet made things _worse._

She was mentally done for the day.

He changed the subject, just as she was about to leave. “You seem to be good with a scout rifle on the field, why change it for the Crucible?”

“Because Guardians are squirmy. With auto rifles you just need a steady hand.”

So she _has_ learned something. He didn’t intend to pose it as a trick question, though.

“Also, scouts take quite some time to reload. I know that you Titans like the rhetoric of fists being the best weapon available because you don’t have to reload them.” There she went off again. She was _trying_ to leave.

“Says the Warlock. You won’t believe how many complaints that I hear regarding your kind.”

Was he actually _sassing_ her? This was new. “I’m sure The Traveler will appreciate you insulting its gifts like that.”

“I’m only insulting the wielder that doesn’t know how to use them. Or in this case, avoid simple punches.”

Tirion smirked; she quite enjoyed the fact that he always insisted on having the last word. She could have continued on this dialogue the whole night, that’s how stubborn he was. But stubbornness came with his position. He has had to look at the most hopeless teams and yell at them to succeed. But, despite him not minding her making a fool out of herself, he still wondered what was going on in that head of hers.

“Either way.” She said rubbing her eyes, withholding a yawn. “I better get out of here before I freeze to death. Not sure how my Ghost would handle that. Thank you for the advice.” She finally managed to turn around and make significant progress towards the stairs.

“Heart of the Praxic Fire.” The words stopped her in her tracks.

“What?”

“The armor. If you manage to get your hands on it, it’ll help. Well insulated.”

Now _she_ was the one confused over what was going on in _his_ head.


	6. Chapter 6

Surprisingly to her, she was getting better. Shaxx’ advice helped, and he never seemed to run out of it. Overseeing thousands of matches tends to have that effect on people. The Lord has been overseeing The Crucible for a long time. _A long, long time_. Amanda seems to be the only one who dares to call him _old_ out loud.

He never went off with any of his rants, but served as a mentor. Tirion didn’t dare to enter the Iron Banner just yet, though she was tempted for the potential comedy. Over the weeks of training the two Guardians developed a friendship, of some kind. Their afterhours chats started to extend to things that weren’t about the Crucible, even. It might have been her proudest accomplishment.

She started to notice things, as how the Titan starts to isolate himself when Saladin is on the second floor, and he started to see a side of her that was more than her sense of humor.

Cayde has taken the role of being Shaxx’s anger outlet, though.

The better Tirion got at it, the more she started to like The Crucible. It was less tedious than the patrolling around the planets, and made her live in ignorance easier. But reality never actually dissipated, more like waited for the perfect opportunity to knock on the door.

Once Tirion was done with procrastinating with one thing, she started procrastinating with the other.

The Taken were still a threat, and a message early in the morning was a cruel reminder.

“Guardian? Did you get any of that? You must know that this is vital.” Ikora’s voice pulled her forcefully through the haze, as suddenly the whole room had become very quiet.

“Yes. Assault the crashed Cabal ship on the Dreadnaught and learn what they know about Oryx.  Done within a day.” Because a Guardian’s life journeys were always somewhat reasonable.

Zavala was going to have none of that, however. “Good. Get at it, Guardian. I’ll be guiding you through it this time around. We need this mission done properly, without _unorthodox workarounds_.”

The old Awoken Titan was always good with his words, soft spoken, always skilled at preventing himself from lashing out and raising his voice. Cayde often puts that talent to the test, though. Despite that, Zavala respected the Hunter.

Lost bet or not, there was a reason why they were a part of the Vanguard. Cayde got the job done, he knew what to hunt for and knew where things were. Zavala knew military tactics, he knew how to win a war. Ikora knew how the enemies worked, and their powers. The three of them balanced each other out.

Zavala still failed to understand what sort of game Shaxx thinks he’s playing. There was a time long back when they fought side by side, and now The Lord makes others fight his battles. A sight which Shaxx without a doubt completely abhors. The two Titans haven’t spoken face-to-face in what seems _years_. They send reports to each other regarding current state of everything, but nothing beyond that. Arcite acts as a proxy between them.

Shaxx was the younger one, opposite of Zavala. Quick to yell and lash out, quick to pummel things without a second thought. Reckless, a hothead. Some may have called him _a weaponized temper tantrum_ back in the day. It’s what led to him losing his horn, after all. A great warrior but sometimes his impulsiveness took the better of him.

He does an outstanding job at keeping it together outside of his Crucible, though. Zavala had to respect that. He did not want to witness Guardians being thrown off of The Tower. It’s also a true miracle of The Traveler that Shaxx hasn’t lost his voice yet.

Zavala couldn’t wrap his head around the friendship he has seen blossom between the younger Titan and Tirion, either. Zavala had seen them both in combat, and they seemed like complete polar opposites. But, there were a lot of things about that Warlock that was a complete mystery.

If Tirion was going to be honest, she _hated_ being a Guardian, but she did all tasks assigned to her because they had to be done. Because she felt _guilty_ , because she was one of the reasons as to why Oryx had come and the five other reasons weren’t willing to pick up the responsibility. There she was, being the last hope for the Light. The fact that she is the one who is praised as being the sole hero doesn’t help. Six people killed Crota: she just happened to be one of them.

“Couldn’t help but notice that you have removed yourself from the roster altogether.” She froze in her tracks, but couldn’t help but admit that that voice made her feel a _little_ bit better.

“Zavala is sending me on an exciting mission involving happiness, joy, and peace between everyone.” She intended to say it with a monotone tone combined with a deadpan expression, but instead she made herself laugh midway through. “Ah, that sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”

“You’ve been making great strides in the Crucible, but I completely understand if you have to withdraw to attend to important matters.” She gave a small smirk at that. Not often do you hear compliments from the Lord. “Where is he sending you? If you’re allowed to say, that is.”

Shaxx’ tone was suspiciously hesitant. Tirion didn’t pay much mind to it as her own bitterness was overwhelming. She assumed that his tone was just fatigue, or maybe just the mention of Zavala’s name.

“Cabal have this old saying of ‘ _When in doubt about something, crash your ship into a bigger ship_!’, and the Vanguard have this saying ‘ _Well I’m sure we could get that Guardian involved somehow.”_ That got a small, almost inaudible chuckle out of Shaxx.

“I have faith in your abilities. I know that you are already initiated about a Cabal’s ability to stomp you flat.” Ah yes, there was a discussion about that not too long ago.

“You’re in good hands with Zavala. I would love to get him back in the Crucible, show the new breed how it’s done.” That statement alone was almost enough to get her to ignore her mission because of images in her head. All she had seen of Zavala is him standing next to the War Table, only thing that keeps him smiling is the fact that The Tower is still standing.

She gasped. “Zavala? In the _Crucible?_ Oh man, I would pay to hear those stories!”

Shaxx smirked inside of the helmet. There _were_ plenty of stories to tell, and he would be glad to tell them to her, but the Darkness has to be repelled. “There will be a time for that later. Remember that The City is grateful.”

The words helped, but it was still suffocating. The City. She always forgets that there is an entire _civilization_ beneath this tower, at risk of getting destroyed by an evil force. Again. Never being able to catch a break, always in fear. And it’s down to her.

She gave a small smile to Shaxx before getting too lost in her head.

“Thank you, it’s appreciated.” If there was a reaction, she didn’t notice and started to leave. “Bicker extra hard with Dead Orbit for me while I’m gone!”

And thus, she was out of sight. As quickly as she came, never staying in a single place for long. Life was in a constant hurry with that particular Warlock. He started to wonder if she was even capable of sitting down.

Even though it was war, he couldn’t help but think that the Vanguard were a bit too severe. They have the power to send out a battalion of people for the task, but they keep sending her by herself. He assumed that they didn’t want to have another incident like what happened when they sent a battalion after Crota.

She doesn’t have a tendency to pick up people along the way, either. Maybe it’s because she never lets them know how it is; she is a hero to the City already but no one knows _who_ she is besides a good combatant with an – often inappropriate – sense of humor.  Just some Awoken for most. She likes to blend in.

Tirion never lets any other part of her personality show to other people. Guess that’s what makes her so mystifying.

During their usual chats she’s always throwing jokes, but she seems to let the sadness underneath slip out more and more frequently as of late.

“Dead Orbit is not happy with your latest report.” His little buddy at the far side of the room informed.

“Send them a message that I don’t care. They’re not calling the shots.”

“They want a ranking update.”

“Well, they can rank themselves by their own incompetence.”

There were no more responses from his little buddy.

Though, he should be the last person to criticize the social skills of other people.

He knew things couldn’t go back to how it used to be, there is far too much animosity that won’t dissipate. Maybe it all boiled down to it being a Titan thing: all of them too stubborn for their own good. He held no ill feelings towards Zavala, but the Awoken was too loyal to Saladin and the Titan order to forgive someone who dismissed it so easily.

Cayde was… Cayde. Nothing needs to be said more.

Ikora was one of the best, if not _the best,_ Warlocks he had ever seen. You didn’t see Light like hers every day. She even had set a milestone in The Crucible. There was mutual respect, but clashing personalities. He didn’t need anyone to rile him up, or a contest.

The rest of The Tower was rather _questionable._ Shaxx had managed to agitate all of the faction leaders, _especially_ Dead Orbit. He found it funny how Tirion encouraged him to bicker with Dead Orbit as she herself was aligned with them.

With those little quirks, Tirion seemed more _real,_ more down to earth. For being an Awoken she showed more _humanity_ than most people in The Tower. Less robotic. She wasn’t too perfect and knew how to put him in his place. Guess that’s why they got along so well. Both of them were lone wolves, she knew how it was.

Shaxx still was unsure what kind of game she was playing, whether she wanted Crucible favors or just someone to talk to. He hoped it was the latter.


	7. The Echo and The Reef

Jokes on her for thinking that the mission might be _easy._ Life can’t help but have a grand finale at any given time. They had found a portal, which would lead her to where Oryx was hiding. Downside of that discovery was that she needed to become Ascendant in order to go trough it, whatever that meant. Another downside was that it spawned something called the Echo of Oryx. An emissary of sorts of the King himself, which made it even all more frightening. It wasn’t the first time she had encountered one of those. Oryx could send out an Echo to anywhere he wants at any given time. There was little hiding from his gaze. The fight against it was grueling, it was like facing off against pure, unadulterated Darkness.

Eris thanked her, the Vanguard told her to wait for further developments regarding the case. Took them three weeks last time she heard that. Oryx seemed to be three steps ahead of them constantly. Having _time_ was not a concept anyone was familiar with. The Taken had invaded Earth just because the Vanguard thought they would have more _time._

Normally Tirion would return to patrolling, or Crucible, but she was _depleted,_ and there was more to come. Speculating what Oryx will do next was fruitless, as he was unpredictable. She left that to the thinkers.

She motionlessly sat in front of the wheel of her ship, just staring into the starry sky. Pondering on where to go. It was just going to get worse from here on out. It kept echoing in her head. It will just get _worse_. The calm sky offered no comfort as all she could see was the Taken arriving at any moment and disrupting it. She could see the Awoken throwing their lives away against the Dreadnaught.

Leave it up to the Hive to suck the beauty out of a starry sky.

“Are you okay, Guardian?” Her Ghost came into view. She was happy to have the little bot right about now.

She sighed, leaning her head back. “What if I would just _run_ before it gets worse? _”_ Tirion couldn’t believe the words were escaping from her, but she was too tired to care. “What if I would just go back to the Vault of Glass and hide, so maybe they’ll just forget that I was ever here?” Tirion whispered softly, her muscles slowly giving up in the comfort of the pilot’s chair. She was envious of the Vex. Though deep inside, she knew that if you live both in the future and the past you will never find a meaning in the present.

“You know that we can’t do that.”

“I know. I am aware. I am just tired. I am being petulant.”

She felt a weight on her shoulder, her Ghost setting itself there as a form of comfort. “Hey, we can do this, Guardian."  The little bot took flight, and observed The Director. “So, where off to next? Word with Cabal on Mars? Revenge on Taken to show your wrath? Maybe get some files on Venus?”

“The hidden lounge in Vestian Outpost to celebrate our future victories?” She half-jokingly said.

“Let’s go then, but I won’t be the one to bring you back to your ship.”

The Tower had a policy about serving alcohol. Tirion believes it might have been for the best, because if the restriction wasn’t in place, everyone would be constantly drunk. Now and then people would smuggle things in, but the party would get quickly shut down. There was a hidden bar that _might or might not be_ owned by Cayde, but she didn’t want to have anything to do with the Vanguard for the rest of the day.

The Reef was the second best thing. The Awoken simply didn’t _care_.

There were still some tensions between Tirion and the rest of the Outpost. Despite her helping them with Skolas, she is still aligned with the Vanguard and will always be considered an outsider. Though, they let Brother Vance reside there without a problem. Tirion always took issue with that.

Vestian Outpost had a _strange_ atmosphere in general. It was the home of The Awoken but no Awoken knew what they actually _were_. Tirion only remembers fragments of her life before the Collapse, but unfortunately nothing of her final days as a human. Some speculate that all Awoken are those who died in space while trying to flee the Collapse. Whether their ethereal appearance is because they saw the face of God or died from asphyxiation in vacuum is unclear, but it’s certainly the origin of many debates heard around.

It didn’t take Tirion too long to come to terms with her change of appearance. Until she took a look in a mirror, she thought that Awoken referred to being resurrected by a Ghost. It was shocking, at first. She found beauty in it eventually. It is a known fact that Awoken will always be elitist when it comes to appearance and aesthetics, and even the posh way they spoke.

Either way, Oryx is the _fourth_ incident that the Vanguard have put on her shoulders. She stumbled into the Vex dilemma, and did it because she was forcefully swept into the ordeal.

She helped Eris, because it was the right thing to do, and because the Vanguard had no one else to put the duty on. Things changed between her and her group of friends after killing Crota. Too much bad blood and too many things that went wrong, too many nightmares to deal with. 

House of Wolves was the only personal thing; she saw it as a chance to find out more about her own kind, the Awoken. But she found no answers, only another adventure. At least she has fond memories of that one. _Relatively._ Fun has become _relative_ for her now.

And now, Oryx has come to deal with the people that killed his son. Since the other five people can’t be located, the deed fell on her. She knew she had to do the tasks assigned, she had a responsibility to fix what she had done. What was tragic about it is that Oryx didn't want revenge because of a good relationship with his son, but because his son failed to exterminate Light. _Great parenting._

What was left of the Awoken were still grieving the death of their Queen, so the dark atmosphere was a _tremendous_ help to her bad mood. She was fighting a force she knew nothing about, with no clue on how to prepare. All she could do was wait for more orders. She has become a _wrench._

“I need a vacation.”

“I’m sure the Vanguard will _grant_ you a nice house in the snowy mountains once all of this is done.” Her little robotic buddy joked.

Tirion leaned back on the couch, with the intention of closing her eyes for just a second. Only a moment, to just breathe.

Knowing them, the house in the mountains will be a monument to her and she’ll be exiled from it. If they survive this, that is. You never knew when Oryx might strike The Last City, or The Tower, The Traveler even. She couldn’t waste time during her down time, Crucible was a nice distraction but the Taken were still a threat even if the Vanguard didn’t have anything to do for her.

There was still work, with no room for procrastination. And here she was in her own pity-party when lives were depending on her and the Vanguard. But then again, this isn’t what normal people usually go through. For most people, a pity-party would be Dead Orbit no longer selling a weapon they've been wanting for a long time. 

She had to do _something._ This isn’t going to end if she keeps taking breaks from the world around her. It isn’t going to end if she keeps procrastinating. Petra Venj most likely had work for her, or rather, work only Tirion is qualified for.

What a problem to have.

The Vanguard will not like her disappearing off like that, but she needed a couple of days without hearing Cayde wise-cracking over the comms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! <3 I may not respond to all of them but I do read all the messages.
> 
> Since this chapter didn't have Shaxx in it, here is a fun fact: He has a sidearm/pistol holster, but never any guns in it. Not even in the Destiny 2 trailer. I mean, maybe it's for the best that he's not allowed to have a gun in The Tower. But he has some wicked sidearms (get it?).


	8. The Tearing Out A Vex Heart Thing

Life was slowly setting into the Tower in the morning, people slowly taking on their posts, checking their wares, sometimes doing odd morning rituals. Cayde would start each morning at his bar before taking his post. Banshee would not let anyone speak to him until all of his machines were on, and all his mail read, and all intentions to ask Shaxx if he can borrow some Titans to scare some manufacturers that are constantly _late_ gone from his mind. Late wares are better than no wares at all. The Speaker would start off by lighting some incense, much to the dismay of Executor Hideo not too far away.

Watching it all come alive was an experience in itself.

There was a level of unrest going around: Tirion has been gone for about a week. The Vanguard weren’t necessarily close to figuring out the next part of the plan, but there was still that underlying worry about no one being there to execute the plan. Zavala played the role of reassuring the other two Vanguard. He has seen many soldiers desert and leave, and Tirion showed no emotional signs of it. If anything, she showed time and time again that she was serious about this.

Shaxx had found himself inadvertently waiting an extra hour before calling it a day after his shift in case she would return, in case he’d hear her usual greeting. No one knew if she was alive or dead, or if she had any intentions to finish the mission. There were rumors about her being seen in The Reef. Would make sense for her to spend her free time helping her own people.

“ _Don’t_.”

The Titan heard the sound of metal arms getting slightly raised in the air and then falling down in defeat.

Cayde raised his hands defensively. “Don’t worry, big guy! I wasn’t even going to do anything.” 

Shaxx cringed at the nickname. “Cayde, you’re _constantly trying_ to do something. It better not be around me if you know what’s good for you.” It was difficult enough to focus on his work all the commotion going on, he didn’t need this.

“Heh. You’d think _you_ especially would get more work done with _her_ not here.”

Shaxx didn’t even give him an annoyed look – or rather, head turn - to satisfy him. “Leave me alone Cayde, I’m not placing bets today or at her expense.” It was always a bet with him, and this was the perfect opportunity to seize for Cayde and everyone knew it.

“Relax, this is a pure professional inquiry.” Cayde said, albeit sarcastically as he walked. He raised his hand to tap on the wall behind Shaxx “My relationship with these _uh_ …” Cayde looked around at the skulls and the shields hanging on the walls, trying to think of a proper term. Were those armorparts or actual bones?

“… _nicely_ decorated walls are approaching them at walking speed, not being _thrown_ at them.”

_Somehow_ , his claim about this being a professional inquiry did not convince Shaxx. Cayde decided to get to the point.

“You and that Guardian seem to spend so much time together, and she fell of the grid. Has she contacted you at all?”

It took Cayde a _week_ to ask that question. _The things we have to do for the safety of The Last City, let me tell you…_

Tirion had plenty of annoying features, and this one was a feature that required skill. She was good at subterfuge, good at making sure no one tracks her. Sadly, it has reached a point where it’s crying wolf, but Shaxx had faith in her. If Tirion was actually in trouble she would undoubtedly reach out. The paranoia of the Vanguard was understandable, though. Everyone was on edge.

“Yeah well, good for her.” Shaxx deflected the question, confusing Cayde. “Doesn’t it seem reasonable for a person to turn into subterfuge when they’re working for _you_?”

Cayde’s metal jaw dropped. The _nerve_ of the Titan. But, Cayde always had the upper hand and Shaxx _still_ owed him. The Exo is going to get back at him soon. A certain holiday was coming up soon and everyone knew how much Shaxx hated socializing, and children. And that a Titan could not outrun a hunter’s skills.

“Why are you still here, Cayde?” It was unusual for Cayde to be in the Hall this early. Even Eris was missing from her den.

Cayde shrugged a bit, still being a bit entranced by Shaxx’s strange choice of décor. He had never taken the time to look at it this close. “Meetings are happening that I don’t want to be a part of. I hate this job.” Cayde sighed before turning around and looking up at the Titan. "Hey, next time your friend has plans to anger some hideous cosmic monster, tell her to try and make it a smaller one. And I’m not talking about you this time."

Shaxx wasn’t entirely sure what the Exo meant by that.

Prior Tirion had left they’ve been discussing Hive swords, an idea he’s been playing around with. It came as a surprise to him that she had quite a lot of experience with them. She didn’t disclose as to what she was doing with the swords, though. For all he knew she was a Hive archeologist. She seemed determined to keep her life a secret.

He could of course access the info by looking at her reports, but he’d rather hear it from her. People don’t go those kind of lengths without a cause.

Shaxx saw Cayde reach out for something on the wall. 

The reason that Cayde didn't lose an arm that day had to be due to a divine intervention of sorts.

“The Vanguard aren’t going to be happy about this…” Both of them heard the sound of a particular Ghost come from the staircase. Tirion didn’t get to answer the little bot as she laid her eyes on the two men. She looked distraught, exhausted. Her eyes were droopy and it seemed as if the only comb she had for her hair were her fingers. The armor she was wearing looked to be brand new, it was clean and clashed against her dirty weapons.

“Hey! Look who decided to come back! We were just talking about ya.” Cayde greeted. “What have you been up to?”

She didn’t want the pleasantries today, she didn’t want berating about her disappearance. She knew that isolating herself was a bad call but it benefited everyone in the end.

“Uh, Hi.” She sounded like _hell._ “I forwarded some things about the Taken to your Ghost, Cayde. Things that you might not like but, still.” Her voice was much deeper and hoarser than usual. Everything about what she just said came off rather uncharacteristic. It was odd to see her not coy or bored. As if she was struggling to keep her eyes open. “Summary is that Oryx is sending out some kind of _champions,_ zealots, whatever _._ All of them dead now, though.” Her own words took her aback, as if she didn’t believe what she was saying.

“Huh.” Cayde said, not being sure how to react at her news and her appearance. “Why do you have to make it so difficult to be mad at you?”

It was like as if she was in a haze. Head feeling empty, not really capable of observing the world around her. She couldn’t place the date of the last time she slept. The Vanguard deserved an update though, before her absence turned the Tower into a _complete_ panic.

For all she knew, her attempt at a good deed might have angered Oryx even more.  

She reached up her gloved hands to rub her eyes. Nodding a bit, then clicking her tongue. “That being said I’m going to throw myself off of The Tower hoping that I feel better when my Ghost revives me.”

_That_ raised more concerns. “She’s uh… _joking_.” Her Ghost felt the need to clarify as she walked away, before hurriedly joining her side.

If either Shaxx or Cayde or anyone said anything she didn’t hear it. There was probably going to be a conversation later about how having a Ghost is no excuse for recreational Tower jumping. At that point, she didn’t care. She wasn't planning to do it, either.

Tirion decided to walk around aimlessly. Maybe she could purchase property in The Tower again, at least temporarily. She knew that soon sleeping in her ship wouldn’t be safe, as Oryx now has his gaze on her more than ever. Part of the reason why she has barely slept. She no longer felt safe flying in her ship, no longer felt safe in orbit.

Tirion sat down on the plaza stairs to contemplate, keeping an ear out for new local bounties that come in. At this point she was on her 6th wind, her brain not letting her rest just now. She needed to convince herself that she was finally _safe,_ no longer under threat of being shot. At least for a little while. 

As she was cleaning her gun, despite complaints even though she reassured that it wasn’t loaded, she noticed a couple of Guardians transmat in in the distance. Tirion was sure of that she’s going to witness the very first death from laughter. Two Titans and a Hunter, all three of them leaning against one of the Vaults, breathless. It caught the attention of nearly everyone in The Tower.

“Could you…” The woman Hunter wheezed out in-between breaths. “Could you do that again?”

The human Titan took his helmet off to wipe a tear away from his eye. “I don’t think I can remember it anymore…” he cleared his throat. “I would tear out a Vex heart with my **_teeth_**! Challenge the Kells to personal combat!” The Titan couldn’t even finish the over-the-top impersonation before the trio devolved back into laughter.

Oh, she was going to have fun with that knowledge.

Only criticism she had of the trio’s antics was that Shaxx’ tone was usually much sharper. She laughed at the image in her head: probably the first time she had laughed the entire week.

It took a bit under an hour to re-assemble her scout rifle. All the junk found in it probably prompted at least six Fallen houses to place a bounty on her gun. Either way she needed to test it out, and there were some Fallen on Earth that the Vanguard considered to be particularly annoying.

She wasn’t going to leave until satisfying her curiosity, though.

“Hey, big guy!” Her laugh got the Lord’s attention. “I heard some things."

After the day he had, he anticipated the worst.

_"I would tear out a Vex heart with my teeth_?” The Warlock could not keep the laughter in despite numerous attempts as she tried to say it.

Shaxx grunted: he knew this was coming. “Yeah, yeah. Get it out of your system. But don’t be surprised if you keep getting Motes of Light as a reward for your _own_ efforts in the Crucible.”

“That bad, huh?” Tirion asked, giving up on restraining the smile.

“Actually, no. It was some of the best combat I’ve seen as of late.” He told. “A Titan had managed to go through the entire match with only 2 deaths. _Certain_ people could learn something from it.”

“Well. Don’t stop surprising people.” The laughter made its way back. This was one of those few times when she genuinely laughed: it wasn’t a small fake laugh that she used to cheer herself up before a mission, or a scoff. Maybe it was just her going insane. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop. I’m tired.”

Shaxx sighed and shook his head. She was lucky he found her mockery of him somewhat endearing. If it was anyone else, they would be mopping floors on the Dreadnaught.

“Don’t you have Taken to fight?” He tried to sound dismissive but the small smile that had formed on his face wouldn’t let him. “I’m glad to see that you’re feeling better. There is still more fighting to be done.”

Tirion looked over to the frame on the other side of the room, obviously already bored.

She found it adorable how the Frame resembled Shaxx when it came to the attire, biggest difference being is that Arcite had two horns. Shaxx always refused to tell the story about how he lost his, though. Saying that people wouldn’t be able to handle it. His broken horn and his den did more than enough to scare a lot of people away.

"Y-e-es?"

“Hey Arcite, where is Palamon?” The Frame gave no response and she let out a feigned sad sigh before turning back to Shaxx. “Frames these days, know no literature.”

She was mystifying because sometimes she made no sense, and tended to revel in that. Always leaving a question that needs to be answered. The sleep depriveness just added onto it. “Well then. I’ll make sure to tear out a Vex heart for you while I’m out there.”

_Very funny._ Regardless whether his rant was unwarranted or not, the feelings still remained. He along other Vanguard have been stuck to their positions for _years_. Shaxx missed the fighting. He didn’t want to forget the feeling of battle, of doing something that matters, instead of vicariously living through Guardians in the Crucible. It seemed that keeping the Tower standing was all he and the Vanguard had left.

How can he be sure that he himself even remembers how to fight? The bets he has with Cayde certainly don't attribute much.

He sighed. “Is it bad to hope that something finally attacks The Tower soon?” Shaxx thought out loud. Tirion had no good answer to that; she could understand where he was coming from despite disagreeing with the thought.

Unfortunately in The Tower things ended in a full circle. The Guardians needed The Vanguard and vice versa in order to not get lost. The Guardians _needed_ the leadership and the training or else they would just run astray, with no order or purpose. Both sides make sacrifices in order to get the full project to function.

Both sides were tired and angry, just wanting to rest. The Darkness was persistent though, not letting up. For every inch they manage to push it back, it creeps in a foot. That progress, over a century’s worth of time. It’s been nothing but redundant. She's been a Guardian for close to three years, and could never imagine dealing with the Darkness and all it has for as long as majority of the Guardians have.

“A lot of the time, it feels as if the only way to win would be to let the Darkness just destroy everything, then start from there.” The Warlock spoke. “The darkness, it’s creeping in. Our redundancy doesn’t repel it.”

“You’re saying that we should just let go?”

“I think something will force us to let go.” She trailed off mid-sentence with a yawn. She knew that something was coming. If it isn’t going to be Oryx, it’s going to be something else. Tirion _knew_ that it’s going to happen and it’s going to happen _soon._

“Get some rest, Tirion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's been watching too many Crucible matches.


	9. The Drinks and The Fairytales

The world wasn’t going to let _her_ to let go.

“ _There's too many of them!_ **_Run!!”_** Her Ghost shouted desperately.

Hordes of Taken at every turn, her gun couldn’t save her. It was a terrifying feeling, when you couldn’t rely on a gun. The world seemed to move quicker than she was running. In that moment, it would be the easiest thing to _let go._ The Vanguard could find a replacement. Maybe then she could get that house she’s been dreaming about.

“Eris survived; her Ghost _didn't_! Can we get _out of here!?”_ Her ghost shouted, calling him worried wouldn’t even cover it. Not only was her companion worried for her life, but also for his. He can keep reviving her all day but if the Taken destroy him while she’s incapacitated, all is lost for Tirion. Maybe even The City.

Tirion’s feet didn’t carry her fast enough, the distance to the Chamber of Night seemed to be harder and harder to cover with every step.  

The sounds of the Taken, them being everywhere at once, the bullets from their rifles missing her helmet by inches. Their caress was pure Darkness, a feeling so disgusting nothing could describe it. It was like drowning under water, in a sea full of hair.

The duo reached the Chamber of Night, which seemed to be deserted. It was then she allowed herself to fall to her knees and finally _breathe._

“Eris, Cayde, can you hear us?”

The dungeon became deathly silent once no response came through the comms.

“Still no connection! This must be how the Hive trapped Eris... Oh.” Ghost’s voice got lower towards the end of the sentence as he noticed what condition Tirion was in. The inside of her helmet felt like a desert, she couldn’t breathe but couldn’t take it off. Suffocation was a bad way to go.

The fact that Guardians could get revived and – in theory - be immortal did not make the deaths less pleasant. On death, a Guardian felt every sensation, the fear, and the pain. Every stab wound and every hemorrhage. The human survival instincts and the terror associated with it did not get erased upon a Guardian’s initial revival. Dying from bullet wounds becomes a part of life eventually, suffocation by Hive gasses another thing.

“That is really reassuring.” She whispered weakly as she stood up, clutching her wounded arm. One of the Taken had managed to graze it. “Is this the point where I eat Hive goo?”

There had to be a solution besides that, it just _had_ to be.  She refused to have her final death in this hellhole, refused to entertain that idea. She didn’t want to die all alone, in a place with no Light.

“You’re not going to die here, Guardian.” The Ghost reassured. Tirion tends to forget that there is a neural symbiosis of sorts between a Guardian and a Ghost. It’s a failsafe, in case of emergency where the Guardian loses the ability to talk and other motor functions. It’s a problem known to happen after one too many glitched resurrections, part of the reason why she does her best to stay alive. Part of the reason why the Crucible has never been for her. Glitched resurrections are not known to happen often, but the risk is always there.

Nothing much was said afterwards. The two of them found a door that they unlocked with tomb husks, and continued deeper onto the Temple of Crota.

In its dying breath, The Traveler created Ghosts, to open doors.

A static voice was finally heard, hope. “We’re going to lose her… just like Eriana.”

“Ignore her, Guardian. You’re not going to die here.” Her Ghost repeated, making sure that her mind won’t enter a downwards spiral.

The signal got lost again. They continued on despite her weakened state, complaints about locks were made _again._ The Hive seem to also have an ancient saying that goes _, “When in doubt about anything, build extra doors and more locks.”_

There were far too many locks for how easy it was to get trough them.

It was time to run again. She wasn’t sure how much she had left in her. Not only for the mission, but in the grand scheme of things.

“…dian?? Get out of that pit! We must have that crystal or we'll never reach Oryx!”

Tirion wasn’t even sure if her Ghost could revive her if she died there. Too much Darkness. She ran until the voices yelling at her through the comms made her lose coordination and she stumbled, she was finally on the surface of the Moon. Could barely notice because the surface was as dark as the deepest dungeons.

It was Cayde’s voice, this time around. “Guardian, is that you?” Tirion couldn’t respond as she slowly rolled over to her back, trying to find something in the sky to focus on. Like balancing on one foot, you can’t do it with your eyes closed. She didn’t remember where she heard that from.

Her Ghost answered for her. “We made it out!” The Warlock could almost feel the relief all the way from the Tower.

She tried to ignore the comms chatter as Tirion didn’t want to hear anything about Oryx again anytime soon. _Focus on the sky._ “…Bring me his dead son’s crystal.” There was an awkward pause after Eris said that.

_“_ That's uh… how Eris says _‘she appreciates your sacrifice._ ’ Glad you're still alive.”

She was halfway to orbit by the time Cayde finished that sentence. The second she made sure she was in her ship she threw her helmet off forcefully, almost making a dent on the interior.

It wasn’t the biggest of rooms, wasn’t even a _room._ It was a bed and a table crammed behind the pilot’s seat. It made her temper tantrum seem more intense than it was, more claustrophobic.

“Guardian…” Her Ghost started carefully with a low voice, slowly moving his one eye from the helmet to her.

She was stomping back and forth, not saying a word as the electricity in her fingertips seemed to become more and more intense for every step. She took her heavy pauldrons off before throwing them at the general direction of where the helmet was resting.

“If you want to change something about your ship, we could always talk to Amanda. I think she’d be willing to expand this room.”

By the time her Ghost had finished the sentence, her scout rifle was already unloaded and making itself at home in a different corner of the ship.

“Why me? Why am I qualified for this?” She struggled to find more things to expand her ship with. Her Ghost wouldn’t let her access the rest of her inventory so that she wouldn’t throw anything she had found on the Moon. “They sent me to certain death. Why not send a frame, or a Titan?”

“Do you want me to recite your qualifications? Shut down the Black Garden, killed Skolas, killed Atheon and then Crota. You also started a rumor that you _didn’t_ shut down the Black Garden _alone_.” A Sidearm had now found a home underneath her bed with a loud thud. It was a necessary rumor to start. The important people knew the truth.

Tirion dropped her body onto the pilot’s chair. “Whatever!” She scoffed. “I _wasn’t_ alone for Crota, at least. People tend to forget that. And they don’t even know about the Vault.” She said as she set the course for The Tower. It was going to be difficult to not be bitter.

“You did most of it alone. You weakened Crota _alone_.” _She_ tends to forget that. But it didn’t make things easier.

* * *

Tirion wasted no time getting to Eris and handing the crystal over. It was a very abrupt conversation consisting of grunts and her Ghost acting as her anger translator.

She was heading to the Crucible in no time. It wasn’t a healthy way of dealing with what she was going through, but she needed to shoot things, to find faith in her gun again without the threat of a final death. She even managed to tune out Shaxx’s commentary and lose the track of time. Tirion only realized how late it was when she couldn’t enter the crucible anymore for the day.

She decided to go back down to the Tower, the adrenaline still had not left her body. Adrenaline, fear, anxiety, stress. Whatever the world wanted to call it. The Vanguard had promised an update by morning, so she couldn’t embark on anything except for waiting for now.

She wasn’t ready to face Shaxx, though.

“Are you quite finished, Guardian?”

He had his arms crossed, showing disapproval for something she had no energy to figure out. She wanted to leave but had no clue where she would go, a permanent state of being lost. Going to him seemed like instinct at this point.

“No, I’m not.” She intended to sound confident, even angry, but it just came out raspy and distressed. “The moon happened. Taken, on the Moon. I triggered a Taken hell. So, that was fun.”

He took a good look at her during her little outburst. She almost smelled of Taken, her red hair disheveled, free of the constraints. It almost reached her shoulders. Even her eyes seemed to glow less than usual. She let her head hang low, as if to conserve energy to be able to stand.

“I heard. You can’t let it take over you. Exhaustion and broken morale is the deadliest weapon they can use against you.” But that was neither the time nor place. She without a doubt already knew that, in that moment she just needed someone to talk to.

He took a deep breath before asking: “Do you want to have a drink?”

She gave him a hesitant look, and he was grateful for the helmet. She could never tell with Shaxx if it was an actual question or a mockery, half expecting to get told to get back into the Crucible and that he doesn’t care. She almost heard it in his voice.

“Are you sure?” The question was hesitant, she just had to make sure.

“You look like you need it. I think I have a bottle at my place.”

Her Ghost is going to have a field day with this later. It took her a second to form some words as things clicked too slowly in her head.

“Sure!” she stumbled out, still being afraid that he was joking. “I, um, need to change this armor though. Pretty sure that at this point Eris would consider me a Hive artifact. Meet you outside in a few?” The fear and sadness she felt a minute ago was slowly getting replaced by nervousness. A welcome change, even if it’s temporary.

“Sounds good.”

Shaxx watched her as she scuttled away, deciding that the ramifications of today’s actions could wait until tomorrow. He quickly finished up his remaining work and headed up.

Tirion was already waiting there. She had changed to a simple brown robe with belts, and had her hair back up, her armor free of weapons. There still was that sadness in her eyes. “There you are.”

She slightly jumped at his words. “I thought you wouldn’t recognize me when I don’t look like the Hivebane.” Tirion gestured towards her new clothes.

“The Hivebane?” Shaxx laughed. “I love it.”

The two of them were quiet as they walked to the housing complex. To be honest, she had already forgotten where it was. There was a time she had a tiny living space there, but it was never used and quickly given to a Guardian that would actually use it. It’s her own definition of the word “ _eviction_ ”.

The Tower was asleep, except for one or two food places still being open. Past the North Food District was the housing complex.

He quickly put the passcode in and let her go in first. _So polite._ She stopped in her tracks as the lights came on, looking around in surprise.

“This place is bigger than my _whole_ ship!” She gasped. “I mean, there are less Fallen skulls and Cabal shields than I expected, but still!”

She wasn’t sure if he was neat or never visited his apartment. Besides for some scattered books on the coffee table, the whole place was impeccably clean. Same color scheme as his den, oranges and browns and reds. There were also additional three rooms behind their respective doors. She felt tinier than usual there, as it was obviously built to accommodate someone taller than a typical Guardian.

For a Titan, he had many books. She almost expected an armory and swords. Somewhere underneath that armor there was obviously something that wasn’t a Guardian Fallen Walker.

A particular book on a table caught her attention and she circled the couch for a proper look. She also had the attention span of a Dreg, even more so when tired.

“I never thought I’d see this book in person again…” Tirion slowly stroked the cover of it before sitting down on the couch. It was a book with a collection of fairytales by different authors. Last time she remembered seeing it was on the day of the Collapse.

“It was a Dawning gift from Rahool.” Shaxx told. “One of the Guardians had found it while out in the field.” Shaxx reached up to his helmet as he was explaining, loosening some straps on it before taking it off. She never expected to hear _somewhat_ positive things about Rahool. “I remember Ikora almost succeeding in getting her Hidden and Cayde to steal it. Kept the book to annoy Cayde.”

Tirion didn’t hear the rest of what he said as she looked over to him. She wasn’t sure if he knew the impact of what he did.

She realized that she had been staring, almost leering, at him, biting her lip. It was quite possible that she’s one of the few people that have seen his face. He was handsome, with short black hair and brown eyes. Oval face, slight stubble. Human. Didn’t make her feel any better about the Awoken joke a while back, though.

“Something wrong?” He finally asked when he looked back at her after putting down the helmet. It was strange to see facial expressions associated with the voice. She half expected him to take off his helmet for there to be a tinier helmet underneath. Or a glowing Crucible sign. Not an actual _face._

“I… Well…” She cleared her throat. Some regrets were had. One good thing about being Awoken is that they couldn’t blush. At least visibly. _Praise the Light._ “I wouldn’t hide that face.” She was too tired to stop the words coming out of her mouth. “Sorry. I am exhausted.”

Tirion couldn’t believe she actually said that out loud and quickly returned her gaze to the book. She’ll never hear the end of it… Luckily for her, he laughed softly. She was very awkwardly endearing.

She could hear him opening cabinets and preparing the glasses. Tirion found it strange that she actually enjoyed this weird awkwardness. “What were you saying about the book?”

“Oh! I…” Though she welcomed the subject change. “I-I had a copy of this book before the Collapse. There was this one fairytale in here that I really loved.” She felt the weight shift on the couch, part of her being too shy to look at him again.

“Something about a nightingale’s song preventing death.” Her mouth formed a sad smile after saying that out loud, resigning from the book and leaning back into the soft couch. “Ah, it’s pretty ironic now isn’t it?” She added, hint of gloom in her voice.

He slowly poured the liquor into the glass before handing it over to her. “It’s not common for Guardians to remember their previous lives. Maybe for the best.”

“Only things I remember is looking normal and liking fairytales.” She looked down into her glass, seeing her own reflection in the drink. “And, single malt?”

“One of several of Ikora’s _ongoing_ bribe attempts. Via Cayde. Warlocks and your books…” He backtracked a bit when he saw her raise an eyebrow slightly. “Don’t be mistaken, a Warlock’s knowledge is a huge advantage. It’s just… amusing.”

He wasn’t really surprised that the first thing she noticed in his apartment was that book; though he had no reason to suspect that she was doing Ikora’s bidding, trying to steal it for her. Tirion and Ikora never seemed to have conversations that lasted longer than half a minute, for reasons unknown. She seemed to be the closest to Cayde, though largely at the Exo’s insistence.

That distressed expression never managed escape from her face. It persisted, like a ghost in limbo.

“I need to know what it was that went down in the Crucible today.” And there came the question. “I was impressed that you can fight once a fire has been lit underneath you, but I’ve seen other Guardians tread this path, never with good results.”

She had a hard time opening up, she didn’t want to lay all of her problems on anyone, especially Shaxx, whose way dealing with things sometimes came off as not only hitting things until the things became a weapon to be used to hit _more_ things with.

But, the words found a way out of her mouth. “The things I see when they send me out on a mission... it isn’t anything like I or any other Guardian has seen before. It’s mental torture. It’s difficult… it’s just difficult.”

Tirion felt the liquor eating up the stress. She didn’t even want to think about fighting Oryx, what kind of horrors he’ll use. “I guess all of this is some karmic justice for breaking into the Vault of Glass. Or killing Crota. Either or. Doing good things just isn’t beneficial anymore.”

Shaxx almost choked on his drink, cringing. “You did what?”

She keeps forgetting that she never talks about it. Everyone knows about the Black Garden, which was impressive enough, and her work against the Taken, but only few about the rest. Reactions is why she works hard to keep it all a secret. And suitors.

“Because I work hard to hide it. I led a fireteam.” She was awfully casual about it, despite her tired voice. “We were bored one day. Decided to break into Vault of Glass. Succeeded. Not long after that Eris asked for my help and I had just the team for it when the time came.” Tirion summarized, as if the two events were the same as walking up and swatting a bee over the head.

“At the end of the day we were just six _very_ cocky, arrogant, snotty misfits that didn’t know what we were getting into. After we killed Crota, a bunch of nonsense occurred and a coup was thrown and then we decided to take a break. Then Oryx came, and _low and behold_ they can’t be found. Could use them right about now.”

It made sense now as to why the Vanguard, especially Zavala, trust her so much, and why she knew about the swords, and why she was perfect for the job. He could have never figured it out based on how she acted, but she had tremendous leadership experience. She seemed to get things _done._

“A coup?” He asked.

Tirion took a swig of her drink, obviously faced with a touchy subject. “Being alive versus enjoying glory. One of my fireteam members snapped and attempted to betray us. Tried to kill him back. Learned to not engage Titans in personal combat. Story for another night.”

Shaxx was deep in thought for a moment, thinking about how much he should share. There are some things best left untold, but it felt as if he owed her. She was very abrupt with her story telling, but she also has been very hard at work to hide that story that she just told him from others. She also needed hope.

“Reminds of Saladin.” He finally spoke, voice a murmur.

She had always been curious but always too afraid to ask. Every time Saladin graces the Tower with his presence, all Titans in the Tower seem to get agitated. The stubbornness gets amped up to the breaking point.

“What happened between you two? I love a good Titan story.”

He cringed before starting to tell the tale. “Twilight Gap happened. He used to be my mentor.”

She couldn’t imagine Shaxx being someone’s pupil, he had always seemed like a solo act to her.

“Under Saladin’s lead in war, many Guardians were slaughtered by the Fallen and the fort overtaken.” His brows were furrowed as he told the tale. Guardians had a difficult time forgetting things, had a difficult time putting things into perspective as after a hundred years of not aging, everything becomes very ironed out, flattened.

“Why didn’t the Fallen win?” She brought him back to reality, he seemed to get too lost in thought.

”The only order Saladin had the audacity to give was ‘ _Hold your ground’.”_ A bitterness started to form in his voice. “Which roughly translates to “ _Die where you stand’._ It has always been the final order amongst Titans. Breaking it is sacrilege.”

_Titans._ “The Tower is still standing and all three of you still alive.”

“I knew that the Defenders wouldn’t be able to withstand it. I just straight up disobeyed the order. I led my battleframes as a counterattack and pushed back the Fallen, and we won. Saladin took offense to that. It’s been… strained ever since.”

Suddenly she understood why Shaxx isn’t impressed by Guardians who haven’t accomplished anything besides shooting a gun, and she understood the isolation when Saladin was around. Tirion remembered how Shaxx didn’t pay her any mind until hearing about what missions she has been up to, and seeing her progress in the Crucible. Anything below a good warrior was nothing but a Dreg to him for that very reason.

Very little compares to disobeying an order from an Iron Lord and winning a battle that couldn’t be won without a special kind of talent, even if it meant sacrificing a reputation.

“You saved countless lives and he got mad at you?”

She can’t say she will ever understand Titans. Worrying about their own code as people were dying.

“For him it was less about saving lives, but more about people disobeying him, and the Titan rhetoric. And as you would put it, ‘ _all that nonsense’_. The order he gave was abhorrent, Titan morals be damned.”

There was a sullen silence that had settled. They certainly knew how to hold a grudge. It’s been over a century since then, and they still haven’t had a proper conversation with each other. For a Guardian, a year is like a month in retrospect.

“I’m pretty sure you already know this, but you did the right thing. Being angry at Saladin seems to be a waste, as his orders weren’t followed.”

Shaxx shrugged. “Doesn’t make me less uncomfortable with him getting the credit for the victory, or him overseeing Iron Banner to seek out champions for his cause, whatever the cause might be. Or the potential of him repeating that order, more deaths by his hand. Because he’s a Titan.” He ended the sentence with an angry sigh, and was silent for a moment. He didn’t intend to turn the mood sour. He wanted to help her, not unload his own tale of hardship.

“And I wouldn’t gloss over your own deeds like you’ve been doing. You’ve accomplished some outstanding things. You should hold pride in that, the City needs people like you to give them hope. The point is that there is always a way to prevail.”

When put that way, her incident on the moon earlier didn’t seem that bad, comparing to killing Crota. It still didn’t stop the corners of her lips falling towards the floor. She wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.

“Would you rather have people constantly clamoring over your deeds and _all that nonsense_? Suddenly becoming this icon to be worshipped instead of an individual? Pedestals. It’s complicated. I guess I’m too selfish to make sacrifices like that to inspire people. There is a lot of pain in being a ‘hero’, it’s so romanticized.”

Her question answered a lot of questions Shaxx had about her. She never wanted for people to look at her differently, never wanted her heroics to warp the perceptions people have of her. It’s easy to put people on a pedestal.

Already normal civilians are walking up to Guardians, asking for their dreams to be interpreted. Already praising them for protecting The City. The clamoring often leads to a traffic pileup. The deeds of ordinary Guardians are nothing compared to hers. She’s the kind of person who focuses on fixing the world _just_ to fix the world, not gain fame or fortune or be worshipped.

But, people will always need a name. Inspiring people and rallying them is part of the job description. Winning a war is one thing, a face to inspire people to pick up arms and show them that it was all done by an individual just like them is another. In war, that face and name is a necessity. People _need_ an icon.

“I suppose not.” Shaxx said after a minute of contemplation. “Got enough of that as it is.”

Tirion put the empty glass down on the table, letting herself sink deeper into the couch. She was certainly going to see the mysterious Iron Banner host in a different light now, and he did call her _a cold apple seed_ once.

“Where do you even live, Tirion?” After all their conversations, he didn’t remember the subject being brought forward.

She would shrug but the couch was too comfortable. “My ship. I have a bed crammed in there. Only manage to nap when traveling from planet to planet.”

“I’m not sure whether to call you smart or insane.”

She took that as a compliment. “Sleep is for Guardians who aren’t trying hard enough.”

He shouldn’t be the one to criticize, but he’s not the one who’s fighting out there. He had no time to babysit her either, but he didn’t want her to die, for The City’s sake. Shaxx has seen this happen constantly out in the field, overworked soldiers going insane. That enough decimating armies. She was close to ending up the same way as Eris today. It takes only one mistake.

Shaxx could of course use his authoritative powers to suspend her from the Crucible, albeit temporary. Issue with that is that she is known for using fake names to enter, to throw him off. He decided to drop the issue for now, but there was something about her haunting eyes that made him feel bad about abandoning the subject. She was already distracted by the book.

“There is one fairytale in that book… The Knight's Tale, Palamon and Arcite…” She murmured “I was just thinking about your little buddy. You name all of your Redjacks after fictional knights?”

Shaxx shook his head. “Database of fairytales. I never expected that that’d be the secret talent of the Hivebane.” She smiled at the remark. There is a world out there where she remembers ancient Golden Age calculations, out there, somewhere.

“Arcite is no longer a Redjack. He is the last surviving frame from Twilight Gap, and is on a well-deserved retirement. And no. Only the best of the best Redjacks get named. Most of them don’t return.”

He looked over at the thick book in question, he never thought he’d find someone it would be _perfect_ for. “You can have the book, if you want.” He saw her face light up when he said that.

“Would take it off my shoulders when inevitably Ikora gets someone to raid my apartment for it.”

She wasn’t entirely sure if he was serious. Ikora frightened her a bit. “I’ll take good care of it.”

Shaxx stood up to put away the glasses; he almost wanted to bargain and only give her the book if she promised to sleep properly. It was getting very late, anyway.

He certainly had discovered newfound respect for Tirion. She had accomplished more in two years than most Guardians have in several decades. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would have achieved if her Ghost had found her earlier, or if she would have been with the Vanguard from the very start, back when they were building The Tower.

He made sure to grab a blanket on his way back to her. She was already lying comfortably on the couch, seemingly inseparable from it. He wasn’t going to let her take the couch back to her ship, though.

“I am not good at telling stories but, if you want some reading material you can ask the Vanguard for my Fireteam reports.” She sighed, as if dreading to say the next few words. “Under the name of, uh… ‘ _The Bad Guys Don't Care What We Call Ourselves Do They?’_ ” Her mumble was loud enough to be comprehensible. He has heard of this mysterious team before, most of the time via Tower’s announcement system.

“TBGDCW… you can’t even shorten it…” She yawned with those words, last of her energy fading. “I guess I should get back to my ship. Things need killing.” She didn’t even sound like she believed her own statements.

He tossed the blanket to her, _trying_ to be careful at least. “Wait, what’s this?”

“You know what this is. Go to sleep.” He himself sounded drained, voice raspier than normal.

“Is this you actually being _nice?”_

He ignored the question as he turned off the lights and headed to one of the rooms with the closed doors. “Good night, Tirion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go the hell to sleep, Tirion! 
> 
> There might be some plot/lore inconsistencies in this chapter
> 
> There are a lot of things in Destiny facts and science just can't explain.  
> Apparently in Destiny the Moon has an atmostphere, but no breathable air 
> 
> Either way, The Traveler did it.


	10. Remembering What Makes Sense

_All she saw was darkness when she ran. Her eyes scouting, trying desperately to find something._

_“Over there!” Lorcan shouted out. “I see a lantern!”_

_It was like she wasn’t in that particular reality, more like behind a glass window. She yelled at them to slow down, but there was no reaction. They managed to run quicker than she was capable. The lantern was already glowing hot red by the time she reached it, the Darkness weighing her down._

_She could no longer hear their voices._

_Something grabbed her leg, pulling her down. The thralls grabbed on to her, overwhelmed her. Their claws scratching at her armor, her skin, hissing in her ear. She couldn’t reach her gun, had no Light left in her to summon a grenade, or to push them off. They were too strong, too many. All she could do was shout._

“It’s okay, Guardian!”

The robotic voice pulled her back to reality. She was sitting upright on the couch, breathing heavily as she tried to figure out where she was. The Tower, not her ship. The Tower, safe and not on the Moon. Somewhere. Where?

_Solar System. Earth. Last City. The Tower. Housing Complex. Lord Shaxx’ apartment. Wait, what?_

Tirion fell back into the couch, repeating the phrase, clutching on the blanket. Slowly remembering how she ended up where she is.

Shaxx had probably already left for work, and she was grateful that he didn’t wake her on the way. For such a tall being he tends to move quietly. Or maybe she _really_ needed the sleep.

She heard a chirp. “Don’t say a word, Ghost.”

“You don’t let me have _any_ fun!” The bot complained. “You two make a perfect match, though. For destroying the Tower. It's scary to be in hibernation when you two are alone.”

“Little. Light.” That nickname always got the work done, but it sometimes resulted in some passive aggressive resurrections that were just a _tad_ too slow. She rolled over to her side and clutched the blanket. “Have the Vanguard said anything?”

“Got a message from them while you were out, they have figured out the next step of the plan, something about Rasputin.”

Visiting the grumpy, Russian, AI grandpa sounded pleasant, actually. There will most likely be Taken in large amounts, but it sounded actually _nice_ compared to hell-depths of the Moon.

All she wished was that the moment yesterday had lasted a little while longer, hence why she didn’t want to let go of the comfort of the blanket. The book was still there on the table, and she gently picked it up, treating it with care, afraid of it turning into dust at any given moment.

Her life now was something she would read in a fairytale before the Collapse.

Someone brought back from the dead to fight the Darkness that can control time and realms and even thinking about it intensified the headache. It’s easy to forget that once upon of time things used to be _normal._ Easy to forget because most people don’t remember those days the first place. Majority of Warlocks study to understand The Traveler and its secrets, Tirion has studied relics to understand life before the Collapse, even life before the Golden Age.

She wasn’t sure what the fairytale was in this case. The Golden Age, or this world with ancient gods and time manipulation. Putting the book in her backpack she decided to face reality. Or rather, reality that was _decided_ for her.

Tirion reluctantly sat up, pulling off the blanket and folding it before standing up to stretch. Sleeping in her robes always left painful marks on her body but that didn’t seem to matter today. It was nice getting to know the Titan, though. Made him more _human,_ as opposed to walking tank with fists for bullets, with an army of frames, his Redjacks. That follow a complex learning algorithm.

She has been desperate to cling onto things that are simple and make sense, but nothing about anything besides sharing a drink with a friend was simple.

The sun from the outside and all the commotion became overwhelming in no time. She couldn’t say she knew what day it was. Judging by the amount of people at the food district and the lenght of the line she stood in, it was around lunch time, and by the mass of people next to Banshee she guessed it was Wednesday.

She placed the book in the vault until she’s done talking to the Vanguard, it wasn’t something she ever wanted to lose. She wasn’t planning to face Ikora’s wrath, either.

Shaxx wasn’t at his post, no surprise there.

“ _Morning_ , Guardian! Long night?” The Exo greeted with a laugh, taking in her disheveled appearance. “I’ve got some news for ya!”

Ikora cleared her throat at that greeting.

“Cayde, don’t you have any _Hunter_ business to settle?” She asked. For a Warlock advisor, she and Tirion didn’t speak that much.

“Maybe she wants to speak to the charming rogue instead of… _y’know_ …” Cayde froze under Ikora’s scrutinizing gaze. “I... have nothing.” He stared down into his map. It was unsure if even he knew what he was looking for there. There was a brief awkward break, with Ikora trying to stare down the Hunter even more.

"Oh, come on!” Ikora said in defeat. “I don't turn people into frogs, or whatever you both heard."

“Someone at The Outpost called you a _magical terrorist_ …” Tirion spoke up for the first time, not being quite awake yet, not being exactly sure where this was going. She had a feeling the next mission will fail under suspicious circumstances because of this.

"I assure you both, the things they say about me aren't... all true." The Warlock said slowly. “But that’s beside the point, if Cayde doesn’t mind. We need cloaking tech to slip past the Taken, and Rasputin’s got it.”

“Don’t we already have it? Isn’t that how we entered the Dreadnaught?” Tirion asked.

“That was a copy, actually” Cayde informed. “And I used up the copy for the stealth drive. For the thing.”

“You still haven’t apologized?” Tirion asked.

“Hey, it was you who crashed the ship!” Cayde defended himself.

“On _your_ orders!”

“What is wrong with you, people?” Zavala spoke up, at the back of the table. “It’s semantics, at best. We need that cloaking device, Guardian. We’re one step away from defeating Oryx.”

Somehow she didn’t believe those words. There was always a catch, always _something._

They didn’t inform her what the cloaking device was for until the very end. At least Rasputin didn’t say anything about nuclear bombardment this time around, and they learned that the AI seems to dislike Oryx. There was something very sinister about Rasputin. Zavala wants to work with him, but there was something at the back of Tirion’s head that would _never_ allow her to be on board with that decision.

The sun was already coming up when she exited the bunker. But now she had to go and steal Crota’s soul. Immediately, it was a race against time. Tirion never wanted to hear those words in the proximity of each other. It’s the same as _“Go visit Rahool to get that engram decrypted”,_ you just don’t do it unless you want to have something stolen and a comment that held no basis in reality.

That meant going down the same route they used to reach Crota, except this time she was all alone. None of her friends to fall back on, no one to lead. She had managed to sneak in a nap and some food on her way to the moon, so she wasn’t going in running on fumes. By her standards, at least.

Luckily for Tirion, the Hellmouth was mostly dead. Old memories and nightmares still lingered at the back of her head as she traversed the abyss. The thralls and the crushing weight of darkness seemed to have died with Crota. Only some patrolling knights and wizards remained, still mourning their master after all this time. The stealth cloak kept Tirion out of trouble, but she refused to entertain the idea of a mission – for once – actually going well. It just seemed _too_ perfect.

When her stealth cloak stopped working after she got the soul, it was the exact moment she decided that she will _never_ work with Eris again.

In a single moment, everything got corrupted, Taken chaos ensued, and they could no longer lock for transmat, for an escape. Tirion didn’t feel fear this time around, but annoyance and disbelief and betrayal. Almost felt as if they knew it was going to happen, and they put her there on purpose, as a _test._

The feeling increased after a minute when Oryx’ left and right hands appeared. Oryx was throwing everything he had at her, for every Taken she killed, Oryx conjured twelve to replace them.

There was no escape as Baxx and Ta’aun opened fire at her, weakening her. Tirion managed to scramble to a safe spot behind the pillar but was forced to move once again as the Ogre turned the pillar into mere rubble, the Centurion right next to it. She just needed one place to reload her gun without impending death.

Tirion quickly made her way to a doorway in the far off distance, but Ta’un’s gun hit her leg and she cried out in pain. She dragged herself to a corner and quickly reloaded her rifle: Tirion wasn’t going to drop her gun, if she was going to go out she was going to go out fighting, _trying._ Doing something that no one else would.

“Guardian…” The voice didn’t come through the comms, it was in her _head._ It was a female voice.

She thought it was the end. How a _final_ death must feel like. _Voices_ in her head. She wasn’t going to have any of it. Oryx was infuriated with her. That’s how much power she held.

“Come… with… me!” She realized that the voice was Eris’, as she spoke an incantation of sorts. Tirion felt the Ogre and the Centurion getting closer, their stomps becoming louder. She took a deep breath before she stood up, a finger on the trigger, ready to face it.

And then, a bright white flash. It felt as if someone ripped her from the realm of time and then put her back in. The Warlock was in the Oversoul Throne now, away from danger. The Taken couldn’t reach her, at least for a moment.

Tirion’s breath was shaky, as if someone had punched her in the chest. Saving the world didn’t mean sacrificing her ability to breathe. Or perhaps it was the immense relief she felt, she couldn't find a cohesive term in the jumble of emotions she was feeling.

“It was the best I could do with so little time…” Eris sounded more exhausted than the Warlock. She heard her explaining something about Toland, and how it was finally time to board the Dreadnaught and put an end to Oryx.

How she got back to The Tower was a blur, but it was already pitch black night. Everyone had left for the day, no life in The Tower besides for the Frames. It was always eerie to see it that way. The Frames had very humanoid personalities, they were almost real. Didn't make some of them sweeping the Tower floors endlessly less disturbing.

It’s been a long day. _Days?_ She didn’t quite know anymore, it has been _at least_ two days. She no longer wanted to be underneath the sky, constantly feeling watched. Tirion mended her leg quickly. Luckily, her boots took most of the damage.

Most of tomorrow will be on her way to Oryx. Tirion wasn’t ready for it. She wanted it done so this nightmare would be over, but she didn’t want to _do_ it. So she found herself doing a _potentially_ stupid thing, to even life out. Some balance was needed in the world of not making sense.

It didn’t take many knocks for him to open the door.

Tirion saw the relief on Shaxx’s face when he laid his eyes on her, as if he has been waiting.

“Well, they’re sending me to kill Oryx tomorrow.” Tirion blurted out, trying to sound casual but it all going down the drain.

On the bright side, she was the only one who had the right to say that statement. She just desperately wished that she would have sounded confident when saying it. She wished there was a hint of _any_ emotion in her voice when saying that. Tirion wasn’t sure if it was the fatigue or the fear.

Shaxx swiftly moved out of the way to let her in and closed the door behind him. He wasn’t wearing the plates of his armor, only the fabric. Even without that he looked tall and stoic. Less terrifying without the décor around him, though.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up. Didn’t want to be alone.” She told him, her voice hoarse.

“The whole Tower heard what happened on the Moon. Difficult to sleep after that, that foes for the whole Tower.” That was half the reason. He heard her cries of pain through the static comms, and the incantation Eris used to get her out. If someone who had killed Crota had trouble getting out of a situation without Hive magic, he didn’t even want to think about it.

Shaxx had fought thousands of Fallen but never anything that was so determined to exterminate the Light, and now _she_ was the last hope for the Light. You could see the physical effects of that responsibility on her.

She sighed as she made her way to the couch when he didn't say anything more. “There is no coming back from this, there is no using my light to succeed. I don’t even know what to expect.” The hysterical irony in her reaching out to _Shaxx_ for help wasn’t lost on her. Nothing he has ever said in the Crucible applied to killing Oryx. But, she didn't have anyone else.

He sat down right next to her, and noticed that this is the closest they’ve been to each other. There was little he could say, as his usual commentary does not apply to killing Hive gods. If anything, his usual tirades would most likely push her away, as she already struggles to take them seriously. Tirion kept staring at her hands, tying her fingers into knots to stop her hands from shaking. Shaxx couldn’t even start to imagine what she saw on that moon.

Shaxx _wasn’t_ good at this kind of thing, it was a fact. He’d be the first to admit that. Normally, people come to him for advice about how to annihilate things, how to hold territory in war, help him create weapons, not seek _comfort_. Especially not in his living space and even more so not seek comfort because of being fear of facing a Hive god.

Tirion was a special one indeed. In just a little over three years she had managed to shake up the world more than most Guardians have in a century, without even realizing what kind of impact she has had.

After some internal deliberation, the Titan tentatively reached out his hand, not being quite sure what to do. He gently placed it on her back, then slowly pulled her in. She placed her head in the nook of his neck, welcoming it.

They sat like that for a long time, no words said between them, his thumb stroking her upper arm. Tirion's breathing slowly became less frantic, and settled on a steady rhythm.

“Can’t we just blow up the moon?” She whispered.

You never knew when she was serious. It was quite frightening. “We don’t have the force needed to blow up the moon, and it would cause more problems on Earth.”

“ _I_ could blow up the moon.”

“I’d advise against doing it.”

Tirion frowned. “Killjoy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "No it okay, don't be cry" good job, Shaxx YOU DID IT.
> 
> Forgot to mention in last chapter:
> 
> My faceclaim for him is Idris Elba, but I'm trying to keep it a bit vague in case Bungie pulls some stuff.  
> Also I have a lot of personal hate for the mission in this chapter because I die a lot in it. :)
> 
> I also have a headcanon that Guardians can put their Ghosts in a hibernation of sorts for... stuff so that Ghosts wouldn't be traumatized/disturbed by... stuff.


	11. The Exo With One Job

There were no nightmares that night. Tirion speculated it was because she reached the amount of fear and stress where it has gone into the negatives. Like holding your hand under hot running water until it starts to feel cold.

She could finally find some sympathy in Vex. Having the ability to bend and manipulate time and never dying because you always exist in some timeline, in one moment. Tirion can’t say she was ever paying attention when Ikora explained how the Vex worked.

The morning came quicker than she wanted. At least if she was a Vex she could defeat Oryx without an issue. Tirion still had no clue nor strategy as to how she’s going to do it besides channel a Cabal and bring at least seventy rockets. Using most of her Light abilities would be out of the question.

A part of Tirion didn’t want to leave _him._ But there was time to think about what any of that meant once Oryx is stopped. They had shifted positions so that she was half-lying on top of Shaxx, with both of his arms around her.

She felt cold after carefully making it out of his embrace, though she would imagine that it would take a battalion of Guardians to wake him. She didn’t even look back at him, because it would make leaving just that much worse. Tirion needed to be focused for this. No lingering images in her head, no distractions.

She made sure to leave a note before she left, though.

* * *

Tirion caught up with Cayde and Eris. Not much was said besides a couple of _good luck_ s and contemplation of weapon selections. The idea to blow up the moon was brought up briefly, but was regarded as a bad idea quickly despite Cayde’s agreement with Tirion.

Oryx had outsmarted them, he was far cleverer than his son. Tirion knew that without a doubt he would have a backup plan, but no idea of what it could be.

Is a Guardian even a Guardian if they can’t utilize Light to defeat the Darkness?

The tension before the battle in the Hall of Guardians was enough to cover up the tension between Eris and Cayde. Ikora was away meeting with some of her Hidden, and Zavala was out handing out jobs to some Fireteams. Leaving Eris and Cayde alone in the same room was almost as dangerous as killing Oryx.

“All of this was set in motion long ago. He calls out, and the Darkness answers.”

It took Cayde a second to process that. “Oookay, creepy sidekick, check. Rogue-ish commander, check. And then we have the Guardian, my greatest success story. I'd say we're ready to get this done!”

Guardians had already settled in the Dreadnaught, fighting the Taken and the Cabal and the Hive fighting each other, the Dreadnaught seemed to be a place for all-out war to break out. Only ones that couldn’t be found there were the Fallen. This was no time for worrying what the Fallen were up to.

“Push back the dark… End it.”

He was _still_ not used to Eris. They’ve known each other for over a year, but she was still unsettling. Though he knew that she couldn’t help it.

“She’s right, Guardian” Cayde added, as Tirion’s eye twitch was almost heard through the comms. “There's no doubt in my mind this could possibly work. Now, get to that Rupture.”

Dealing with all of this chatter made fighting Oryx sound pleasant. ”A little less chatter please, this will take some concentration.”

The comms turned silent for a while. Cayde wasn’t sure what Eris kept seeing in that rock of hers, there were talks circulating that that rock is actually used in Hive embalming rituals. That raised questions best left unanswered. If anything it was a fidget thing: Shaxx had his swords, Cayde had his map that he knew inside and out, Ikora had her books that she has already read cover to cover hundreds of times, Eris had her orb. Zavala – whether he liked to admit it publicly or not - had crocheting.

There wasn’t much to do when waiting, besides to get stuck in an infinite loop of plans and strategies, trying to figure out what they may have forgotten. It’s not as if every time they sent her out on a mission the Hive didn’t make things turn for the horrible midway through, right?

The faint buzz in the comms caught the duo’s attention. “I’m at the Mausoleum, don’t want to know what it’s for.”

“Okay, that’s where the rupture should be.” Her Ghost informed before Cayde could double check it on the map.

“Alright, Guardian. Get it open!” Cayde commanded, as if it was simple. “Once you’re there, send your coordinates. We’ll lock down your position and send in reinforcements.”

That was a _promise._ He wasn’t going to make her fight alone this time. The previous tasks did require a certain level of subterfuge, but the Vanguard had her back this time around. Fighting was heard on the comms she had forgotten to turn off. Cayde did love the sound of that MIDA.

There was a brief moment of silence before they heard the rupture open, but she didn’t move.

“Cayde.” Tirion murmured. “You better bring those reinforcements.” Her wish was more like a plea, this wasn’t anything a Guardian has done before.

“I promise, Guardian. I already have them on standby.”

Eris gasped, interrupting the moment between them. “The rupture can sense the soul you hold! You are Ascendant!” The woman marveled. _Still not used to it._

“Time to go kill a king, eh, Guardian?”

“This doesn’t mean you don’t have to be quiet anymore.”

The Exo let out a laugh at that “Good luck!”

No one could figure out what happened after about five seconds. Loud, horrible, screeching static before it calmed down and became a low hum. A low hum that reminded him of when his record runs out of songs, the needle scraping the plastic yet providing no music.

Just… silence.

He could find no coordinates, no messages sent to him, the reinforcements left on hold. It was as if she had never been there. Had never been in their _world._ This was different than when she willingly chose subterfuge.

Cayde really wasn’t a fan of this whole realm business. Life is complicated enough with _one_ realm to think about.

“Guardian?” He had to give it a shot. “Guardian, can you hear me?”

Static. Quiet. Zavala is going to murder him in cold blood. Still no message.

“She’s far beyond our reach, now.”

“Where is she, Eris? I don’t want to hear any Hive mumbo jumbo.” Truth be told the Exo was about to attempt to flip over the table. He had _one_ job. _One._

“I can’t tell.”

The Exo didn’t need that. He _promised_ her reinforcements. The last thing she said was a plea for reinforcements. And for him to be quiet but that was really beside the point.

He was hunched over, scrying through the map, maybe hanging out with Eris enhanced his hunter senses so he can track Hive better. But no such wish was granted. Maybe he could access some kind of hidden circuits and unlock a hidden Exo power. Cayde was desperate for a solution.

“Cayde, what’s the situation? Why haven’t the reinforcements been called?”

He didn’t want to look at Zavala. He knew that if he looked he might find a flaming hammer heading towards him. Or an electric fist. Or a force field that will deflect both of those at Cayde. The hunter tried desperately to think of a way to mend the situation.

Eris got to it before him. “The Guardian is beyond our realm.”

In that moment, Cayde didn’t feel so bad for crashing her ship. The Exo cleared his throat, still not looking at Zavala.

“We uh… how do I address this.” Cayde began, turning his head to Zavala’s direction with closed eyes, flailing with his hand for emphasis. “We _lost_ the Guardian?”

The Hunter braced himself, giving a slight nod to his Ghost to stand by for resurrection.

“You sent out the Guardian to kill the biggest threat to us in the last _century_ , and you _lost_ her?!”

The step Zavala took forward will go down as the loudest step taken in history of The Tower. But Cayde now at least knew that in case the Tower’s PA system breaks, they could always utilize Zavala. This was the first time Zavala had raised his voice since they met each other. Cayde opened his metal eyes _slowly_ to look at the furious Titan.

“We didn’t lose her,” Eris interjected. “She’s very much alive, just beyond our realm, where Oryx is hiding.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“And how can you be sure of that?”

Cayde and Zavala answered at the same time, the Hunter continued on.

“Either way, she’s in there all alone, with no reinforcements, no comms, _nothin’_.” Cayde growled out. “And I promised her reinforcements, damn it. _We_ put that responsibility on her, that is on _us._ ” He ended as he pushed himself off of the table.

Zavala slowly walked over to his own post, despite Cayde’s meltdown, as the Hunter continued the tirade.

“So now not only we might lose our best chance to kill Oryx, hey, we might also lose someone who is willing to take on the responsibility! And I’m not sure what I’m yellin’ about anymore!”

Zavala has seen these outbursts time and time again from different soldiers, different leaders. They always have a breaking point, usually towards the end. Stress of war finds a way to pile up without anyone being the wiser. He saw it with Saladin, how it forced him to make the decision to _die_ instead of _plan._ Everything can go right but if a final little detail goes wrong, it can lead to destruction. So much was put at stake in that very moment. So much was put at stake on _one_ person.

“We _wait_.” Zavala’s voice still sounded confident despite all of that, though it was trough gritted teeth. _Someone_ had to be confident. “We have done everything we can. I am confident that she can prevail. The consequences of this all… well, they can wait until after she returns to us.”

Hours passed.

_Hours_ of listening to the gentle hum of the comms. _Hours_ of thinking about how he promised the reinforcements and how Tirion is going to shiv him. _Hours_ of being under Zavala’s scrutinizing gaze. _Hours_ of expecting a hammer to his face.

Ikora had a calmer reaction to finding out the news. She was less surprised, but equally worried. Well, at least that’s _one_ Warlock that will not shiv him in his sleep for sure.

Cayde _had_ to get out of the place, out of the tension. Usually he says a snarky joke or two before he walks away but he couldn’t conjure any, not even when the other two Vanguard _demanded_ to know where he was going. Not even the sight of Shaxx helped to inspire comedy out of him.

The Exo noticed a lone datapad resting on the desk “ _I’ll make sure to bring back Oryx’ skull for_ \---“ the said datapad was snatched out of his sight before he could finish reading. The Titan swiftly hid it in a drawer in his desk before he returned to writing the report.

Those who weren’t stationed at the Dreadnaught were in the Tower waiting to hear progress on Oryx’ demise. The Crucible wasn’t particularly busy that day, but the factions of the city were _particularly_ annoying and pestering.

“Go away. I don’t have the time to waste.” How many times has Shaxx repeated that phrase the past few months?

“I got a funny story for you, though!”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“We lost _the_ Guardian.” Shaxx froze at those words. “Though it’s _funny_ in a way of _Zavala is about to murder me_ so I came here to bug a friendly Titan!” The tone of Cayde’s voice held no enthusiasm even though he tried to convey it.

Shaxx slowly turned his head towards the Hunter, making him back away a step. _Bad idea._

“ _You_ did _what_?!”

Cayde could tell that Zavala and Shaxx had the same mentor. Worst part about this was that Cayde didn’t know if he should expect flaming hammers or a death from above. But since Shaxx was the subject matter, Cayde being sliced up with a reverse-engineered Hive sword in the shape of a fist seemed to be the most probable outcome.

He did not like that outcome. He could of course go and hang out with Amanda, but she has ships that can be aimed to the vast emptiness of space.

Cayde raised his hands in defense, instead. “Just remember, there is too much Light here for me to die here! Unlike The Guardi—“

He stopped himself. There was no hope for the Exo today. Absolutely _none_.

Defeated, he made his way to the armchair behind Shaxx, dropped down into it and rubbed his face on instinct. A moment of contemplative silence passed between them, probably most peace they’ve had in years in the same room.

There was no entertaining the idea that she might be _gone._

“Do you even know her name, Cayde?” Shaxx knew the answer to the question, but he still had to ask. He waited for a joke, an excuse, even an attempt to make something up.

“No.” The Exo answered honestly after a moment.

“You have worked with her for almost three years and you don’t know her name.” The statement was almost hissed out. Shaxx wondered if he’s the only one who has been a friend to her as of late.

“She _never_ told me, believe it or not. I’ll be the first to admit that it makes things easier. But no, it seems a bit awkward to ask at this point, don’t ya think? _Hi Guardian! We’ve worked with each other all this time, oh and by the way, what’s your name?_ ”

Then again, Shaxx only found out her name by looking at the Crucible logs. “Did you ever ask, though?”

“Back when I asked her, she didn’t know it herself. She also _isolates_ herself. Did you know that she was one of those who broke into the Vault of Glass, then killed Crota and brought Skolas to justice? I didn’t know about the Vault until a couple of days ago! I found out about it through a recording on a dead Ghost!”

The report was going nowhere, finesse was thrown out of the window, and Shaxx was almost tempted to send in the reports in the angry state that they were in. As much as he wanted to cuss them out, he didn’t want to intensify the already ongoing faction wars. Though at the end of the day they’re going to be unhappy no matter what.

Small part of him wishing that he wouldn’t had invited Tirion for that drink so that _this_ would be easier. At least when she was on the moon, he overheard her voice over the comms so he knew that she was alive. Shaxx pulled out Tirion’s datapad from the drawer and sat down, as far away from the Exo as he could.

_I’ll make sure to bring back Oryx’s skull for you. It will look fancier than the one on your desk.  
Also; Thank you._

_Also, I know that Cayde will find a way to read this: Hi, Cayde. I and Shaxx did very, very dirty things; we said a lot of bad things about hand cannons. And we liked it._

He re-read the message, smiling a bit at the last part, as to reassure himself that she actually once existed and what kind of person she is, Tirion wasn’t someone that would die, or let herself be stuck in another realm.

Shaxx also knew that her favorite fairytale was about Death giving up treasures for a nightingale’s song. He knew how her sentences became increasingly shorter when she was anxious. How her favorite gun is an old, unusable Sidearm that she received as a gift from The Reef. How she hates Defender Titans who abuse their Supers by placing them on Control zones.

He was in over his head. He was also grateful for his helmet, but it didn’t seem to matter as Cayde could see through it all.

“Y’know, I was in the same situation with a girl once.”

Shaxx wasn’t sure what kind of thing Cayde was trying to open up, as he looked at the Exo with an eyebrow raised underneath the helmet. All he knew that it had to be stopped, _immediately_.

“I don’t care, Cayde. I really don’t. Shut up.” Shaxx returned to looking at the message.

Cayde decided to ignore the Titan, much to the latter’s dismay. “She was _beautiful_ ,” Cayde breathed out the words. “Smart. A scientist. A _literal_ one, actually. Heh, can you imagine me with someone like that? Well, anyway we--“

Shaxx groaned to interrupt him. “Please stop this. _Right now_. Before I kill you.”

After saying those words, Shaxx realized that praying for some kind of divine intervention seemed to be the only reasonable thing to do. Maybe get his Ghost to hire an urchin to start a fire as a distraction so he wouldn’t have to hear this. The option to stand up and _leave_ was there, but Cayde was the one who was intruding. Shaxx decided to put the datapad away and cross his arms.

“You wouldn’t dare. Why do you gotta be the way that you are, Shaxx?” Cayde asked with a sigh. “Can’t you have a conversation with someone without you threatening to send ten Titans on a murder spree? Would be nice. Would be more _welcoming_. Do you know how many Guardians would actually report in to us if you didn’t scare them off, as you and your hell-den are the first things they see?”

Shaxx rolled his eyes. “ _One Frame_ would be enough to take _you_ down. I'd tell you to hit me for that remark, but I think it would hurt.”

Cayde almost clarified that he was made of metal, but knew that it would be a setup for a thickhead joke.

“To answer your question, there is really no time to go out and smell the roses when the Darkness refuses to let up. Now, _go. Away_.”

“I’m not finished with my story! Where was I? Oh, her name was---“

The divine intervention struck as a loud crash was heard from outside of the hall, something that sounded like a ship getting rammed into The Tower, followed by people gasping, and running. It was enough to distract them both. The blur of the culprit appeared in the Hall in no time.

“He’s still alive!” Tirion shouted as she ran for the map, Cayde sprung up from the armchair and ran after her. He found her running her fingers through the map of the Dreadnaught, frantically searching. This wasn’t the Tirion that they knew.

Outer layers of her armor were torn. Scratches, clawmarks, even teeth bites were seen on her robe. Her gun looked as if it was put through a meat grinder.

“What do you mean _he’s still alive_? You didn’t end him?” Zavala tried to break through her franticness. “What happened out there, Guardian?”

“A Hive god doesn’t simply die like that. I killed him and he responded by using the last of his strength, or the Blight, or _whatever_ to retreat his soul to somewhere…” She snapped, looking at every single possible detail of the map, every pen stroke, searching for a hidden hint.

“I can have my Hidd—“

“I know more than them.”

“We should get Eris.” Zavala suggested.

“No.” Tirion objected. “There has to be something on the Dreadnaught. Some place, with a portal. A place that lets atrocities teleport from different realms to our realm…” she mumbled to herself. A place like that was right at the tip of her tongue. She had seen it, heard rumors of other Guardians. Something about using runes.

“There it is! Court of Oryx.” Tirion had her Ghost scan the map before she set out to leave. She had no idea what her next step is going to be, but she _had_ to finish it.

“Guardian…” The Exo’s voice sounded borderline grating to her. She turned around to face the Vanguard, a sight she has had enough of. There was something in her glowing eyes, a tale of fear and a future that needed to be prevented. Her jaw was more clenched than his metal one.

“You promised reinforcements, Cayde!” Her raised voice caused numerous passerby to stop in their tracks and get away. Her voice was frigid cold, fingertips summoning up a storm. The fight had changed her, and only she and her Ghost knew what actually went down on that ship.

“Don’t blame _us_ on that. You were unreachable. We couldn’t predict what Oryx might do.”

They didn’t even deserve the story, she thought. This was no time for sassing back Cayde.

“I’m going to blame you; you _sent_ me there. Over and over again. You don’t know what I saw all _alone_ in there. I’ll finish this.”

Tirion didn’t wait for a response as she ran off. She had to start with investigating the Court, she was convinced that she could find a way to Oryx trough there. Most likely she’s going to need people, going to need to track down the five others. She didn’t kill Oryx, just made him angry. _Damn it, this was so close from being over._

She didn’t notice that the sun was almost down until then, until a voice pulled her out of her haze.

“Tirion!” She stopped in her tracks, everything washing over her, as that was the first time in hours she had stopped moving. Light felt strange to her now, like an intruder in her body. She didn’t want to face Shaxx, not in her current condition. “What happened out there?”

She needed to go, she needed to go _now._ Tirion looked around, as if intercepting Hive to get her at any moment. She didn’t know how much time she had. “I’ll send you a message later, Shaxx.” He reached out to her as she disappeared in front of him, already in Orbit.

With that alone, The Tower was in chaos. Too many fingers pointed, while the real problem remained to be Oryx. No one could have predicted what would happen, but when feelings were hurt it was the easiest thing to place blame on things that made sense. _People_ made sense, a Hive god that can travel between realms didn’t. Nothing about the ordeal was logical or comprehensive. Now that she has cut them off, it made things worse.

There was no sleep that graced Shaxx that night. The reports not only had a deadline but were a convenient distraction, up until he got a message from her.

_Don’t tell the Vanguard._

_Lorcan – Hunter/Human/Male/_

_Alva-14 – Hunter/Exo/Female/She won't talk much/  
_

_Kouhei_ _– Titan/Awoken/Male/Backstabbing cheat/_

_Haya – Titan/Human/Female/_

_Huritt-4_ _– Warlock/Exo/Male/Priority/_

_If you see them in the Crucible, send them a message that says:_

_084 105 114 105 111 110_

_Enough hiding, you knuckleheads._

_The rugshop that inspired six idiots to rob a Vault._

Shaxx had already forwarded the message to Arcite. He’s the one that handles rosters, and would be more efficient with tracking them down. The Frame would also be more objective.

The lifeless state of both her and her message was daunting. She _will_ come back from that defeat. Tirion seemed determined to fight on, to fix it, wasting no time on stalling. He wasn’t sure whether she could ever fix the relationship between her and the other Vanguard, if she’s going to ever be able to forgive Cayde.

Shaxx still had that bet to fulfill, the one about outracing his Golden Guns. It will have to be postponed until the situation becomes less awkward. It isn’t as if Shaxx keeps deliberately postponing the bet, but life sure finds the way.

But for now, Tirion was still alive and fighting. That was good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really looking forward to seeing what we'll see at E3 today for Destiny 2!
> 
> Quick note: I know that you can scan some statues and hear Cayde speak even AFTER your Ghost tells you that you lost contact with the Vanguard and that you're all alone now, but I consider that to be a developer oversight and I enjoy writing banter between Shaxx and Cayde.
> 
> They'll get along. At some point.


	12. The Wings and The Leaves

Tirion had utilized Shaxx’ place as an office, at least for the time being. Even if being in her ship wouldn’t be dangerous, she had no room in it for all the work she needed to do to track down her friends.

She just had the entire Solar System to comb through. She was so focused that she didn’t even notice someone entering the apartment, or what time it was.

“Any progress?” Shaxx’ voice made her jump a bit. He wondered if she knew how late it was. At least the now empty plate next to her indicated that she took a break to get something to eat.

“Feels like for every inch I don’t find them in Oryx gets closer…” Tirion said as she buried her face in her hands. She has found some leads; the Titans would be easiest to find, the hunters might take a little longer. Getting them to accept the adventure to kill another Hive god might be another thing. That’s why it was important to find Huritt, the only smart one of the six. Even if she couldn’t find the rest of the team, Huritt’s knowledge was invaluable.

She’s been very reclusive regarding what she found in the Dreadnaught and her fireteam, besides their ridiculous name. All Shaxx knew about them was their names and classes, and the brief comments. Arcite was scanning for their previous history in the Crucible, and all could be done now was to wait.

“What can you tell me about the fireteam?”

She half-lied down on the desk, using a hand to prop her head up. Frustration was visible on her face despite the attempts to repress it.

“Best Defender, best leveler of cities, best scouts, best scholar. But…” She sighed heavily. “It… It’s complicated.” She bit her lip after saying that, contemplating.

It was a deep can of worms that she hasn’t been willing to open, especially with recent events. There are some things best left untold. There are some things that a hero shouldn’t do, and she has done _all_ of them. Tirion noticed his rather concerned gaze on her. If anything, Shaxx deserved to know.

Part of her didn’t want him to think of her any lesser. It was too late to backtrack now.

“The actual dictionary definition for what we were doing is… a _gang._ I was the one who gave them jobs. Both ethical and… less ethical. Anything that paid Glimmer and Marks.”

Tirion was almost scared of saying the words as she watched him sit down on a chair on the other side of the desk. Shaxx’s lack of helmet made the story more difficult to tell. She wasn’t sure how Shaxx would react to the whole story.

“You were all criminals.” He stated.

She cringed at that, there was no beating around the bush with Shaxx.

“When I found them, they were living in the slums. Using my notoriety after the Black Garden, I gave them jobs, everyone got a cut of the rewards. People started noticing that we were capable and more _‘job’_ opportunities arose. Sometimes those _‘jobs’_ required to commit crimes, like _misplacing_ the Ghost of a Guardian who got away with doing unspeakable things. Killing Crota crossed a line, though.”

Shaxx knew that the Vault nor Crota would be survivable without the best of the best. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made; if a group of criminals were the only ones who could save the world, so be it. He wasn’t going to complain in this situation, as long as those antics are far behind them.

He couldn’t wait to see them in action, if anything.

“We can’t be afford to be picky during this time. Can’t wait to meet Guardians that know how to keep their gun sights away from their feet, for once. Criminals or not, competency is a welcome sight around the Tower.”

Being good combatants was the only redeemable feature they had, at the end of the day. She was surprised over how calmly Shaxx reacted to the story.

“I don’t want to go back to that life. Some people deserved all the broken legs we caused without a doubt, but there were better ways to handle it.” Tirion sighed, they were a dysfunctional family of Glimmer Enthusiasts. “But at the end of day they’re the only ones who can break Oryx’s legs. I know that the Vanguard won’t work with criminals, they don’t know about _me_.”

Realistically, the only way to find them would be via Arcite. Maybe Oryx was just healing up, not preparing for an attack. Wishful thinking. Maybe he’ll strike tomorrow and she’ll have no team.

The Vanguard had _nothing_ close to the fire that her team had, dysfunctionality or not.

“I trust that there will be no temptation to reinstitute that business when you all reunite.”

Tirion totally understood his concern, though. “We did a lot of bad things but… the _occasional_ good thing that we did, there was no feeling like it. Once all of _this_ …” she gestured over to the mess of datapads and papers in front of her. “…is done I would love to revive that good portion of it, the helping people aspect.”

“Sounds like a noble cause. _Maybe_ with not the same people.”

She leaned back in her chair. “There was once a… misunderstanding with Rahool. Kouhei has spent months trying to get his hands on some chest piece. That bulky, blue one.”

“A Twilight Garrison. Great choice.”

“Yep. We were out in the field and found an engram for a chest piece, first one in four months, and against our better judgment we gave it to _Rahool_. Rahool gave him a pair of Ruin Wings.”

Shaxx almost winced in pain at that. It was a mystery as to how Rahool still had his job.

“Kouhei equipped the said wings, to try and punch Rahool with them to show how efficient they are, but we calmed him down and decided to take a stroll through the City instead. There was this kid, no older than ten, who saw those wings on him and thought that it was the coolest thing in the universe.”

“So he gave the Wings to that kid?”

“No. He rolled his eyes and went to Orbit, leaving only me and Lorc.” Shaxx didn’t expect any less from a Titan.

“That kid looked _completely_ heartbroken, not because Kouhei _left_ , but because Hunters and Warlocks weren’t cool, you know? As Lorc was doing his best to explain to that kid that Titans – indeed – suck, no offense Shaxx,” Only a _little_ offense was taken. “I bought some paper and grey paint and a bunch of other stuff. We spent the whole day with that kid, building the Wings for him. The rest of the Fireteam quickly joined for critique and helping. That kid couldn’t be happier once it was all done. Before he ran off and pretended to be a Guardian, he told us that Warlocks and Hunters were _almost_ as cool as Titans.”

“Well, I can’t bring myself to disagree with that kid.” Shaxx stated, _obviously_ holding no bias towards anyone.

“His mother later sent us a message thanking us for spending time with him, and that he was happier since meeting us. Only then Kouhei ended up giving the Wings to that kid, for when he’s older. They’re good people when they want to be. It _could_ work. After this…”

With those words she returned to her work. It was nice to think back on those days, when things were easier before a God tore them apart. She wondered where that kid was now. Sometimes you didn’t have to bend the whole world to make a difference in it. Only very rare cases, like the one she was in required, you to bend the world to save it.

The secret of the Court needed _at least_ six people to be unlocked. She knew how, but didn’t have the power. She knew that she was getting herself into a job that was the equivalent of playing chess against a grand master. Needless to say, Tirion has never played chess.

A hand reached out and gently closed the book of barely understandable sketches she was looking at, dragging Tirion back to reality.

“You _need_ to take a break, Tirion.” His voice almost commanded. “This _isn’t_ a matter of arguing.” Shaxx interrupted as he saw Tirion open her mouth _to argue_. “You’ve done all you can for today.”

“I won’t be able to sleep. Might as well work.” Tirion mumbled as she tried to reach for her sketchbook before it was yanked away.

“I didn’t say anything about _sleeping_.” Shaxx said, almost expecting an obvious vulgar joke from her which never came. “Change into your armor. You don’t need to bring any weapons.”

He saw the twinge of a smirk on her face as she looked up to him. The old inappropriate Tirion was still in there, somewhere. Though he did not intend any of it to come off the wrong way. Shaxx had absolutely no intent to take advantage of her, and the rest was complicated.

“What do you have in mind?” Tirion asked, instead, watching him rise up from the chair.

“You not being holed up in here. Meet me at the hangar when you’re ready.”  Shaxx put the notebook back on the table next to her, before grabbing his helmet and heading for the door. Tirion knew he was right, but it was still hard to resist the temptation to get back to her endless staring at her awful sketches, pretending that she’s accomplishing something.

Tirion forgot how heavy the Warlock armor robes actually were compared to her casual clothes. It felt like soaked wet clothing. She could never understand how Shaxx could stand there for hours on end with full Titan armor.

She still brought a sidearm with her, just in case. Tirion didn’t want to be defenseless in case they run into some enemies, as she had no clue as to what was going to happen. The shuttle ride was quiet, Tirion still couldn’t quite get her mind off things. Oryx’ face was still burned into her vision and not going away no matter how many times she blinked. Even when she closed her eyes she could see him.

They reached their destination and landed within a matter of minutes. The cold night air hit her face after she exited the stuffy shuttle, taking in the sights.

“What are we doing in _Bannerfall_?” Tirion asked, looking around in surprise. She has never seen the world this still and quiet before. No sounds of life besides some birds and insects, the old trees still thriving on despite the war going on around them, and all the bullets Guardians accidentally shot at them. The moon and some dormant lights were the only things illuminating the old tower in the dark night.

“It’s the closest arena that isn’t infested with Hive.” Shaxx explained. “And the easiest to set up multiple Rifts in.” He had already taken off the helmet and was tapping on a datapad when saying those words, leaning on one of the pillars. She appreciated that he picked a place without Hive accessories, but still couldn’t understand what was going on and why he dragged her out here in the middle of the night.

“I’m lost.”

An uncharged Spark manifested between them as a response, almost making her draw her gun. She wasn’t a fan of surprises in that particular moment. The energy was pooling on the ground like water, looking especially mesmerizing when it was dark.

“These Rifts need to be tested and this will help you. I _need_ you to run them.” Tirion couldn’t tell if his words meant that Shaxx wanted her to run them just to test the Rifts or to get her out of the rut she has been in. “The Rifts are supposed to spawn in random locations. Locate them and ignite them.”

Despite her confusion, Tirion agreed. She accepted the distraction.

At first she thought it was a bit stupid, but, after igniting a couple of Rifts, she started to realize what Shaxx was talking about.

Rift by Rift she found herself forgetting about the world, all the worries, Oryx, her strained relationship with the Vanguard. It all became about focus, about the breeze she felt, about trying to predict when the next Rift will spawn. This was certainly much easier when other Guardians weren’t shooting at her. It was just her and the night, she forgot completely that the sparks and rifts were controlled by someone.

Tirion had even forgotten all the bad parts of the dysfunctional family of hers.

She got so used to it, that she didn’t even notice that Shaxx hadn’t charged the last spark until he grabbed her by the shoulders to stop Tirion in her tracks when she reached the place it was supposed to spawn. It took quite a bit of force to stop her though, as she almost crashed into him, inches from bruising her face on his armor.

“That was the last one.” He said softly before letting go of her, albeit a tad bit reluctantly when he saw her surprised face. “Feel better?”

Her eyes followed his falling arms. “Yes…” Tirion’s glowing eyes slowly made it back to his face. “Thank you.”

Tirion was entranced by something behind him in a matter of seconds, and he followed her gaze. She was staring at the glowing full moon in the sky, and started pacing towards the railings to get a better look at it. He frowned, maybe it wasn’t the best choice to bring her there in the middle of the night to make her feel better.

Her pale face almost looked pained by the time she made it to the old tree, the Titan right behind her.

“I can’t get over how serene it looks from down here…” Tirion leaned against the tree, her legs nearly giving in, still looking up at the moon through the red leaves. “Just a… rock.”

Tirion couldn’t help but wonder how much the civilians, all the people that live below the Tower, know. She was sure they knew of the initial massacres Crota was responsible for, but she hoped that there was someone out there that has no idea of it, someone that can still look up to it and appreciate the beauty without associating horror with it.

Hoped for some _innocence_ in this Darkness consumed world.

She felt Shaxx join her side underneath the tree and cross his arms. He wasn’t difficult to miss, after all. Without thinking, she leaned against Shaxx, not being quite able to put her on his shoulder due to the height difference so she settled on leaning it against his arm instead.

Half of her face was in the soft furs of his pauldron. Tirion always wondered what tactical advantage some parts of his armor actually provided besides being over the top. Maybe it was a Titan thing, as Saladin’s armor had some of the most intricate decorations she’s seen on any kind of armor.

“Don’t get _too_ comfortable. Amanda only let me have the shuttle for two hours.” He didn’t even know why he said that. In reality, Shaxx didn’t mind moments like these. Whether it was moments _like these_ or _moments with her_ was something to think about another time, once all of this was over, and once Oryx was defeated and once there was a moment to breathe. Maybe then.

But still, he didn’t exactly reject these moments, didn’t exactly reject _her_. He wasn’t exactly opposed to it leading to _something_ more, but for now it was just bad timing. All she needed now was a friend. He also needed her to balance him out.

“Do you get nightmares, Shaxx?” The question was sudden, but Tirion’s voice was low, as if being ashamed to ask the question. He knew she has been having bad dreams, but she never opened up about them.

He shook his head. “Not anymore. They stopped at some point.” His voice was almost a whisper. “Though even after all these years, I still am not able to sit with my back to a room full of people.”

The way he put it made perfect sense for Tirion.

She was afraid that once she gets away from all this, in her house wherever it will be, _none_ of it will ever go away. But, it’s the price for saving the world, sacrifices. The tales they’ll tell only covering the heroic deeds but not all the pain involved in it. But maybe the society below didn’t _need_ to know about the pain.

Maybe them hearing about the happy parts was just enough. Maybe the bad parts were between the lines and implied, and it made the tales stronger.

The little moments like these made it all bearable, though. Just standing there under that tree in the middle of the night was enough. There was no pressure to start a conversation, or keep one going.  

But, she didn’t mind talking to him. She could listen to him talk for hours.

“Did your Rift project work out?” Tirion asked.

Shaxx sighed at the question. “In _theory_ , yes. But yesterday I witnessed a Hunter grab the Spark and run to his own team’s Rift area, get confused, and throw himself off of a cliff. _Three_ times. Then his Hunter friends just gave up mid match and sat down, talking about whether it was too late to become Warlocks to avoid the shame. I don’t think I’ll implement it _just_ yet.”

Tirion laughed at the image that invoked, moving her head away from his arm and unintentionally breaking the moment of small comfort. He found himself inadvertently frowning at that.

Tirion pushed herself off of the tree, feeling completely beat. She felt much better than about two hours ago, but all she could think about now was _sleep_.

Maybe, just _maybe_ , everything would turn out okay.

She noticed Shaxx looking at her strangely, arms still crossed. Tirion was still standing close to him, partly waiting for his next move as he was the one in charge of the traveling.

Shaxx slowly uncrossed his arms and reached out one of his hands to her face. Tirion held her breath as she watched that hand travel to the top of her head, where he pulled out some crinkling leaves, as red as her own hair, that had camouflaged themselves in there.

He grunted slightly with a frown. “Your head is full of _leaves_.” Shaxx stated, matter of fact-ly as he pulled out a few more carefully.

“Damnit!” She complained, reaching up to brush her hair with her fingers, but ending up messing up her braids that held her hair in place. Her own fault for not wearing a helmet.

Tirion heard that silent laugh he was trying to stifle when looking at her struggling with the situation.

“Don’t laugh at me, I _swear_ to you that I’m an accomplished hero. It’s just…” She shook her head in an attempt to shake them out. “I’m so glad to finally uh, meet these leaves. Big fan.”

Shaxx gave up on restraining the laughter. “Let’s get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra chapter because you people have been so awesome. Thought I'd publish this before I overwork it.   
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments!
> 
> Lots of awesome Destiny things seen at E3. Seriously can't wait.
> 
> Sidenote: I started a private match during nighttime in Bannerfall when writing this for ambience and got the hell scared out of me when my super charged. :)


	13. The Stealth of It All

Against all odds and over a week of work, she had managed to track down all five of her people with the help of Arcite, even the one she described as a “ _backstabbing cheat_ ”. Great warriors all of them based on what Shaxx had seen of them in the Crucible and read about in her reports. Though in the one instance where all six of them were in the _same_ Control match, there were horrific results.

They were constantly seen around the Tower, running, planning, trying to figure out how the Dreadnaught works. Tirion solved the mystery of the Court, but refused to share the details, still refusing to talk with the Vanguard.

Tirion was back to her usual self in about two weeks, for the _most_ part. There was something about that fight that had scarred her and wouldn’t let her go, but having her old friends around seemed to help to lift her spirits up. Most _terrifying_ aspect of it was that Tirion seemed to be the most level-headed one out of the six.

When Shaxx created The Crucible, he established a rule for himself: to not let feelings interfere _with_ The Crucible. He’s been following that rule without an issue. Shaxx has _perfected_ the ability to shut off his _private_ feelings when observing combat, and he took pride in that.

This was the first time in about a century he _considered_ breaking that rule.

All the constant hugging and handholding between Tirion and some Hunter from her circle made Shaxx want to rig the Crucible match rewards, so that the Hunter would receive nothing but Motes of Light and weapons from Banshee’s discard pile for the _foreseeable future_.

He would never do it. Shaxx knew that if he would start with one, it would be too easy to start doing it to more people. But still, the strong temptation was constantly there, growing stronger and stronger every time the two Guardians passed by him, constantly having hands on eachother. His name was Lorcan _something,_ knowing a part of his name was more than enough for Shaxx.

Shaxx’s and Tirion’s talks had mostly diminished to a quick greeting as she runs past to borrow books from the bookshelf behind Arcite. Now that she had her team together there was no excuse to waste time on non-Oryx related issues. They had found an apartment of their own to plan and rest in, as well. Whether it was something they rented or _stole_ was a concern best left ignored.

He felt guilty for being angry because his friend found someone else to make her happy, to be that close to her. Shaxx hasn’t even worked up the _nerve_ to even admit to himself how he really felt towards Tirion, much less _show_ her. It just wasn’t the most convenient time with the war to think about it.

But, of course she would pick someone who has been through _hell_ with her, opposed to a Crucible Handler who was too busy focusing on the future so that tragedies that have happened in the past wouldn’t happen again, never focusing on the present. Never focusing on who or what was in front of him. And who knows, maybe once they win this war a new one will start shortly after.

He felt selfish, to say the _least._

“Hey!” He heard her soft voice come from the stairs, she was alone this time around, much to his relief.

“Warlock.” The greeting unintentionally came out frigid and evasive, and Tirion took notice. He saw her smile lessen a bit. There was too much going on in his head and there was no more Crucible or work to escape to for the night. He shouldn’t be treating her this way.

“We, uh, we have it figured out!” She leaned on the desk with her hands, as if the realization alone was draining. “We’ll put an end to Oryx tomorrow. Then we can wake up from this nightmare.”

Her voice resembled a wheeze more than a whisper, sounding like that was the first time she had ever _entertained_ that idea. It wasn’t far from the truth. This time around however, she didn’t sound distressed, she wasn’t panicking and trembling in need of comfort. There was clear confidence in her tone. She _had_ to be confident this time around.

“That sounds… great. The City is grateful for what you’ve accomplished.” If he was going to be honest, he wouldn’t had known how to react even if he wasn’t in the pitiful situation that he’s in. Shaxx was beyond impressed with what they managed to plan in about a couple of weeks, they were the same people who had conquered the Vault of Glass, and put an end to Crota. Obviously smart and capable.

Maybe _too_ smart for their own good, as them being in the same room for long periods of time led to coups and numerous incidents. For every heroic deed they did, they had an incident report about them.

Tirion just pursed her lips at the response, and pushed herself off of the desk after a moment of opening and closing her mouth, struggling to find something to bring him out of the cold state. Overall, there was little cheering up The Tower, _everyone_ was tense that day and it got worse for every day Oryx was alive. Combined with the fact that nobody except for her fireteam knew of the current status of killing the King, anxiety around the Hall was rampant. Tirion knew that she should have opened up to them, but she still detested the Vanguard for what had happened.

But, Shaxx obviously wanted to be left alone and she had to respect that wish. She hated how Oryx tore everything apart around them. Tore everything apart her friends, Vanguard, Shaxx, the _world._ Tirion gave up with a sigh, slightly disappointed, as she turned around to leave. She wasn’t going to stick around if this wasn’t going to go anywhere. There were still some things that needed her immediate attention, still some small unknowns to iron out before the assault tomorrow.

“Tirion…” He finally stammered out before she was out of sight. She turned around on her heels to look at him, glowing eyes slightly wide in confusion.

Shaxx felt this _yearning_ when he looked at Tirion, this unfathomable yearning in his chest. A yearning that he couldn’t do _anything_ about besides letting it fester if he knew what was good for him and the Tower and The Crucible and the rest. He wasn’t sure how it happened in the first place, it had completely snuck up on him and knocked him over the head.

“I… “ Shaxx knew it was a bad idea to tell the truth in that moment, however. She didn’t need distractions before the battle. He didn’t know how to articulate the truth in the first place. He didn’t even know how he really felt. Maybe he just missed the friendship. Maybe it was just the anxiety that Oryx imposed, and he needed an excuse for his anger that made _sense_ and was in front of him.

”It’s been nice seeing you happy like this, with your fireteam.” It was both a truth and a lie, but he saw the smile return to her face briefly. She gave him a slight nod before she resumed walking away.

_This_ wasn’t going to go away.

* * *

It was early morning the next day, and the five of them were sprawled on the cold ground behind the Postmaster’s little den. Their ships were getting some last minute repairs done, so they were stranded in the Tower for the time being.

None of them knowing _why_ this was a good idea in the first place, besides Haya throwing a fit about being hungry and refusing to move.

Alva was lying on her back on the ground, looking at some birds in the sky. Kouhei was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, scowling as he tried to ignore Haya leaning against him, as she was desperate for a soft surface to lean against. Huritt was trying to fix his hand with a screwdriver that had been previously damaged by trying to befriend a Cabal for _“research purposes”._ Tirion was leaning forward, supporting her head with her fist, praying that Lorcan would return soon with the breakfast so that they could move on.

They could have done this at the Hangar Lounge, or the apartment they managed to _“inhabit”._ But it was too late to leave at this point as that would mean they would have to wait longer for food and Haya wasn’t going to budge.

“So, how do you think Shaxx lost his horn?” Haya attempted to start a conversation, partly to hear Kauhei’s annoyance at a Human’s close proximity to him, and her talking about another Titan.

“Judging by the texture, the logical thing to guess is that it was broken off by gunfire.” Hurrit-4 stated as he bent his fingers to see if all metal joints were responding to commands. “Possibly something like Lord of Wolves.” The Exo Warlock explained.

Haya responded by rolling her eyes. “Nerd.” The remark had a friendly undertone to it. “I think he just ran out of ammo while fighting and broke it off and used it as a weapon.”

It was only then Hurrit-4 took offence. “That’s impossible. In order to do that he would have to break it off straight down, the ridges indicate that it was broken off from a front blast!”

She was in her own world at that point. “He probably got a 7th Column with it. _What a champ_.”

“You can’t get a 7th Column outside of the Crucible!” Hurrit shouted, at the very comfortable looking Titan. “And the war was fought before he created it!”

“I don’t know what you’re arguing about, but Zavala is a better Titan.” Lorc has been standing there for a moment, trying to make sense of the argument. He put down the box in the middle of the circle they were sitting in and it didn’t take long until all of them were trying to open the box at the same time trying to grab food like vultures.

“But his voice…” Haya started, earning a scowl and a sharp glare from Tirion. “Let me tell you… I’d do--”

“Haya. _No_.” Tirion interrupted, much to relief of others. “I don’t want to hear what kind of twisted fantasies you have about _horns_ and voices. Just… no.”

“ _Fine_.” Haya groaned. “Can I have Saladin, then? There aren’t many Titans to choose from! Kouhei doesn’t like me because I’m not all _weird..._ and _glowy_.”

Lorcan failed to withhold the snicker, bringing the attention to him in the sudden awkward silence that had formed between the non-Titans, the two Awoken, and her.

Tirion had a hard time remembering the redeemable features they had. Perhaps this was just the result of stress and anticipation before the battle.

“Oh man,” Lorc swallowed the food before he choked on it. “The holy trinity. And I thought Tirion was offensive sometimes… _Congrats_ , Haya.” Lorcan said before it was deemed that no more further questions about this should be asked.

The last time they had a moment like this was before leaving to kill Crota. Though it was less chaotic last time. Maybe Tirion was just looking back at it through rose colored glasses. Things weren’t quite back to normal yet, but they were certainly on a good course towards a good result. But for all they knew, it might fall apart again once Oryx is dead. There was a familiar sense of Déjà vu in the air.

Kauhei snorted. “It’s kind of funny how after all this time we still order the same thing, and Lorc still to _this day_ orders the wrong kind of bread.”

They had conquered the Vault of Glass and killed Crota and they still haven’t let go of the bread argument. Maybe Oryx will be the thing that settles it.

“Well I’m sorry _Lost Sov Of The Friggin’ Reef_ , ask the Awoken kingdom for Glimmer so you can buy your inferior bread yourself.” The hunter snapped at the scowling Awoken Titan.

It was a very touchy subject. “You’ve been doing it on _purpose_?”

“Yes. Because screw you and your bread, buddy.” Lorcan almost stuck his tongue out as he said that. Well, there was one mystery solved. “My Glimmer, my bread. Bread won’t stab you.”

“This bread stabs my taste buds.” The Awoken Titan didn’t want to give in, no matter what. “I’d rather have it stab me in the kidney.”

“Stop bullying my bread, ya douche!” Lorcan retaliated.

“I will stab _you both_ if any of you mention bread again.” Haya cut in.

Tirion had barely touched the food, letting the silly argument escalate despite her knowing better. Maybe the growing tumor in her head will grant her a third eye and better vision. Once they were out in the field, they were always professional. It’s just the down time when they get _bored_ that got _very_ difficult to deal with.

They’ve been over the plan hundreds of times, they’ve made significant progress with Lorc’s drone and Huritt’s vast knowledge of the Hive, Oryx’ relationships with his court. They went into the Vault blinder than this and prevailed. She heard faint whispers of Huritt joining in an arguing about Titans not liking knives and the act of stabbing.

“Stabbing, throwing a hammer at someone’s face. It’s the same thing. You Warlocks just don’t understand it!” Haya exclaimed, while making a hammer throwing gesture.

“If you knuckleheads don’t mind…” Tirion finally spoke up, sharply. “We’re leaving to kill Oryx after this, so I hope you have your hammers ready for that. After that… I don’t know. Not sure how much I can deal with this.” Tirion looked back down to her food. _Such a confident leader_. She wanted to get it done, she was ready for Oryx now. Hopefully she and her team won’t kill eachother before the deed is done.

“Okay then. I’ll be the one to ask. What are we going to do about our _business_?” Lorcan asked. “I miss those days.”

“I don’t.” Surprisingly, it was _Kouhei_ who spoke up against it. “You miss those days because you didn’t break people’s legs and you helped children.”

Lorcan blinked several times while shaking his head, trying to decipher what was going on. Titans and Hunters, mortal enemies until the bitter end.

“What… the _hell?_ _What?_ You, _Kouhei,_ no longer enjoying breaking things and you’re speaking up against this? What’s next? You’re _not_ gonna stab us when we kill Oryx? I really enjoyed the seething pain last time. Was looking forward to re-living it.”

“People change, Lorcan. And _seething_ is not the correct word for it.”

“Yeah and Alva will soon start speaking!” Lorcan stated as he pointed at Alva, at least where she was a second ago only to find concrete. “Well. God. Damn it.” Lorc spoke slowly as let his hand fall to the ground as Tirion stood up and dusted herself off. They’re going to have to put a tracker on her at some point.

She couldn’t help but wonder why she was even putting up with this. Oh right, a _Hive God King_ that _only_ they could take down _. Maybe_ letting the world burn wasn't such a bad idea. _  
_

“Figure out who does what. I’m checking the Hall. One of you needs to protect the food.”

Alva was a special one. No one knows if she was a prototype or an experiment gone wrong, or how that Exo became a Guardian. Alva was already mute when Tirion found her in the slums, so was her Ghost. Only communication method they had was via text via Ghosts. Whoever created Alva most likely didn’t base her on an adult, as she had very childlike array of mannerisms and was shorter than a typical Exo.

But, after 14 memory wipes, it was difficult to know the truth. Alva quickly had become the master of subterfuge, master of hiding. Her skills had saved the fireteam several times, but her habit of running off had put their lives at risk more. Tirion felt awful for abandoning her after Crota’s demise, she was definitely Tirion’s favorite.

It didn’t take long to find her, though.

“ _Nope_!” Tirion shouted, in the Hall, seeing the blur trying to stand as still as possible behind Shaxx, a hand dangerously close to the back of his armor. The Exo had become curious as to what that lever on his armor actually does.

“What is it, Guardian?” Tirion had forgotten that Shaxx was clueless about the situation. At least that boosted Tirion’s confidence a bit. If Alva can sneak up behind Shaxx undetected then Oryx won’t be a problem.

Tirion sighed. “Alva. I can see you.” She saw the shoulders of the blur fall before the cloak wore off. The Exo hung her head low and started walking towards Tirion. “You’re trying to start a war there?”

Alva crossed her arms and looked away from Tirion. “Why did you try to do that?”

_// He yelled at me. //_

“He yells at _everyone_.”

_// I was just standing there and he called me a dreg for wasting his time. //_

“He’s a busy man that can’t stand loitering. What did you steal from him?”

_// Nothing. //_

Tirion walked in front of Alva’s gaze, bowing down slightly to compensate for the height difference.

“Alva, _no one_ has time for this.”

A low electronic, corrupted rumble escaped her throat as she reached out her hands, and two sniper raffles were transmatted into her hands before they were handed over to the Warlock.

“Thank you. Now go back to others.” Alva stomped off with her fists clenched.

_// Meanie. //_

She’ll get over it. Tirion turned to Shaxx and put the rifles on his desk. “Sorry. She takes things personally sometimes.”

“What _is_ that stealth cloak she’s using? Haven’t seen any hunter be this stealthy.”

“Once, we just let her sit with a couple of Vex corpses in an empty room for six hours and suddenly she developed that. I’m afraid to ask at this point.” Tirion shrugged. “Might be for the best because if Cayde would get a hold of the tech...”

She didn’t even dare to finish the thought. Tirion also needed to talk to Cayde before setting off to the Dreadnaught, she couldn’t leave with that bad blood between them.

Killing Oryx was easy, _people_ were difficult.

“When are you leaving for Oryx?” Shaxx asked.

“Whenever Amanda stops holding our ships hostage.  Needed some upgrades in case we want to get to safety as quickly as we can. It’s an old trick. So we’re just waiting for the call, we’ve done everything we could.”

Shaxx picked up the returned sniper rifles and put them back in their respective places. He almost felt angry for not noticing them disappearing in the first place.

“I don’t even know what to say besides; _good luck_ and stick together.” He was almost cautiously looking across his shoulder, trying to catch a blur. Tirion found it interesting to see him be so _cautious_ and not stoic and confident.

“Don’t worry. She won’t try to pull stunts again. But… make sure you have a Juggernaut shield. Just _in case._ ” Shaxx laughed softly at that.

“I always do. You won’t believe how many Guardians try to run up to me because of a Mercy rule they considered unfair. Sometimes the wall they crash into is best at doing the talking. A wall cares more about their complaints than I do.”

There was that smile on her face that he has come to adore. “Well. I’d ask you to come and join me to kill Oryx but you’d have more fun here crashing Guardians in said walls.”

“As much as I would love to push Zavala to a breaking point with that, I’ll leave killing Oryx in more capable hands.” She believed that. “Go out there and _crush_ Oryx. You were made to do this.”

“Make room for a new skull on your desk!” Tirion said as she backed away, still holding on to that promise she made before she left to kill Oryx for the first time.

He was glad she remembered that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA the chapter where everyone is a complete stressed-out mess and it will all make sense later and pretty much majority of the Fireteam Breakfast Chat was based on actual arguments that have happened between some friends, minus people being salty over getting stabbed in a Darkness zone.
> 
> Also, I won't be covering King's Fall in the next chapter. I'd rather write uh... stuff... than to cover the (even though my favourite) most tedious raid in Destiny because augh just no.
> 
> Let's just not.


	14. The Victory, or Rather Lack Of It

“We need to talk.” Tirion said, catching Cayde’s attention. It needed to be done before she left. She couldn’t afford any loose ends or regrets, or distractions.

“Fine. _Shoot_.” There was bitterness in the Exo’s voice, as if the sight of her soured the mood. She took a seat next to the Exo on a barstool, as he was was pouring a drink. She was still unsure how Exos worked with food and drink but she wasn’t going to think too deeply about it.

Tirion inhaled deeply. “My very late report on what happened on the Dreadnaught is nearly finished, but I thought you’d want to hear it from me directly first.”

She had to start somewhere. Tirion told him about how she got isolated in another realm, how she faced all four enslaved species at once. Ruptures, ghost figures of Oryx constantly taunting her, reminding her of how he had taken entire worlds and that _her_ being the last hope for the Light was _pathetic._

How Oryx’s right and left hands were one of the toughest fights of Tirion’s life. All the ruptures she had to go through, not having a single clue as to where she was in the universe, not even knowing if she’ll ever make it back.

How she saw Oryx blot out all Light, the experience of her Light getting drained from her, as if he had drained her blood. Being forced to see a future she had to work her damnest to prevent.

“…I am sorry… for yelling at you because of the reinforcements. There is nothing you could have done. Not even the Traveler’s Light reached me there.” Tirion finished her tale, slight remorse in her voice, never letting Cayde not looking at her deter her.

The Exo put his drink down, and decided to stare holes into the counter instead. Reason for Cayde’s sense of humor was simple; as an Exo he wasn’t that much capable at expressing himself without using words. If you didn’t use humor, you’d come across as cold and abrasive. It was hard to know what was going on in his head when he was quiet.

Cayde sighed, seemingly having reached a conclusion in his head, finally turning his hooded head towards her.

“Let me put it this way, Guardian...” Nope, he still hadn’t reached the conclusion, but it didn’t stop him from winging it. “The fact alone that you’ve endured what we’ve put you through for the last two-three years without bigger problems than developing a friendship with Shaxx,” he paused for dramatic effect, “Shaxx, of _all_ people. Shaxx. You’ve _befriended_ Shaxx. Out of _all_ the people in the Tower… y’know, even Rahool would be less concerning, hell, Banshee… _anyway_.”

His ramble came across as if he was trying to convince _himself_. Even when said out loud, the concept of _anyone_ befriending Shaxx sounded absolutely _insane_ to Cayde _._ “It’s nothin’ short of a miracle.”

If he was going to be honest, he had already forgotten the start of his rambling. Got too distracted by the fact that this tiny Warlock managed to befriend the goliath: apparently you need to kill two and a half gods and imprison the Kell of Kells to impress him.

_That’s some high standards for women he has,_ Cayde thought.

“I have to give credit where it’s due, though. If it weren’t for you then I wouldn’t know where to go.” Tirion said.

He appreciated the compliment. “You still hold the right to be mad at all of us. There were ways to handle things better. But hindsight and all that, a funny thing, really.” Cayde said.

She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the counter and resting her face on her fist. There was a lot of hindsight to consider, all she could focus on is learning how to react better in _the moment,_ when the action goes down.

There were a lot of stupid mistakes that she had made in the field, there were a lot of nightmares that could have been avoided. But she didn’t know any better. That’s a part of life, though. If we went into it knowing every single detail and all the instructions, nothing would get learned, and there would be no fun.

“We did our best, considering.” Was the only way Tirion could summarize her inner turmoil out loud. She looked over to the Exo, who was playing with his glass, containing a weird green liquid. That wasn’t the time for a snarky comment about whether he just goes to the bar to just play with his drink and listen to pre-Golden Age music.

Cayde scratched his metal face, taking in a deep shaky breath.

"Y’know, Zavala is too serious to say it, and Ikora is too distracted, but the Vanguard wouldn’t be what it is today without _you_. That’s…” Cayde almost sounded choked up, which only added to Tirion’s confusion. ”…thank you, for the… shooting.” He finished, once again avoiding her gaze. It was nice to hear him tell her that, but she didn’t know how to quite react.

“I’m proud of you, Cayde.”

“So, when are you leaving?” Cayde was in a hurry to change the subject so she wouldn’t notice him getting a _tad_ choked up. “Not that I wanna get rid of ya’. But you do have a god to kill. Again.”

_Again_. This time around she won’t be alone. “Any minute now. Amanda is inspecting our ship, making sure that they’re ready for… ship things. I’m just waiting for the go-ahead.” She opened up her palm to summon her Ghost.

The little bot blinked a couple of times. “Was wondering when you were going to let me out.” He chirped as he explored the surroundings of the bar. Nothing much to see; just her, Cayde, and a frame sweeping the floor with an old broom. It was a _“treat yourself_ ” kind of establishment. With _”treat yourself”_ roughly translating to _“Cayde’s secret alcohol and accessories stash establishment hidden away in the nook of The Tower”._ Tirion found the place because of pure dumb luck on her part when she first arrived to The Tower. She was strictly instructed to protect the location of it with her life.

That was quite a day, and she has come so far.

Her Ghost was looking at some statues underneath the shelves of bottles of various colors, none of the bottles organized in any shape or form. One of the statues held a resemblance to a Vex.

“Aww. Remember when these little guys were our biggest problem?” The Ghost illuminated the little statue as he spoke.

“And this Guardian took care of that problem before Shaxx could give out a long monologue as to what he would to their hearts. Fun times.” Cayde added.

Tirion scoffed. “I remember when my biggest problem was that I wasn’t as pretty as Mara Sov.” She cringed at the memories. “At that point I was all ‘Oh these Vex aren’t really that bad, but hey I want to look like her. Her brother is kind of a jerk, though’.”

“She _is_ gorgeous, though.” Cayde said. “I mean, she could decimate a whole militia, but still. Reminds me of this girl I knew.”

“Whatever.” There was evidently still remaining salt over it. “It took me far too long to realize that this world was _real._ ”

It was very tempting to reach over and grab one of the bottles, but there was no drinking and flying a ship, nor drinking and killing a god. Drinking could wait until Oryx was dead. When they succeed, there is without a doubt going to be a celebratory party. She wasn’t a fan of get-togethers that much, but Tirion admitted that the Tower and the City needed some cheering up, and _hope._

Cayde had quite the assortment of statues and different relics, quite many of them blatantly stolen from Rahool. Tirion wondered how many of those artifacts were there just to be used as leverage for Ikora when Cayde wants to access something that requires two-thirds Vanguard authorization.

They let the music play as they sat, not saying anything more, Cayde still not drinking his drink. There seemed to be only one song on the record, but no one seemed to get tired of it. She had vague memories of this feeling; of waiting for a bus with her friends to go on an excursion.

She still hadn’t decided whether she would rather forget everything about the Golden Age or remember every single detail of it. It seemed to be two entirely different worlds.

_“Will Fireteam....”_ A voice crackled over the Intercom, followed by a sigh. _“Will Fireteam 'The Bad Guys don't care what we call ourselves' please report to the Shipwright immediately."_

The name was _still_ ridiculous.

“Well then.” She stood up from the bar stool. “Something clever about something.”

“Go out and _win_ this, Guardian!”

She laughed before she went out the door. “Now you sound like Shaxx!”

“I take back what I said, I hope Oryx kills ya’!”

Cayde didn’t really wish that, but it _did_ sting. He spent a couple more hours in his establishment before finally returning to the Hall. The tension made it almost difficult to walk through the room to his map.

He knew less about where she was and what she was doing now than the last time she left to kill Oryx, but there was something that didn’t incite panic this time around.

Just anticipation.

Could also be because Zavala had no plans to kill him this time around.

Cayde had also found out about her name, it was Tirion. He also found out that it meant _“gentle”,_ and his own name meant _“battle”,_ then it all had devolved into him searching for news articles about himself, and _horse_ people possibly invading the Solar System, and Zavala Action Snacks.

And Ikora not giving him authorization to find out what it was all about. Who puts two-thirds Vanguard authorization on _anything_ anyways? Especially on something like that?

Cayde saw Eris walk in, looking at her weird orb, looking more amazed than she has ever looked.

“I never believed it could be done…”

“What are you talking about, Eris?” Cayde asked.

“The King is dead.”

It took a minute for them to wrap their head around it as Eris went on a monologue about Oryx’ demise, it seemed unbelievable.

_Impossible_ even.

Within seconds Cayde was scrambling after the comm controls, putting in Tirion’s frequency, and immediately having to turn the volume down because of all the celebratory shouting, something about lassoing someone’s corpse back before it sinks into Saturn.

She most likely didn’t notice that he was trying to contact her and her Ghost answered it for her.

“Well there is our answer!” The way Cayde saw Zavala and Ikora suddenly relax made him wish that his Ghost was recording; both of them looked as if they became 10 years younger. It felt as if someone had opened all windows in the Tower.

The King was dead. Oryx was dead.

After _months_ of planning and fighting, _he was dead_.

He was dead and all they had to do was unleash a Warlock and her crazy friends into the world, and let her do what she wants.

It didn’t take long until the whole Fireteam was at the Hall, sharing experiences. Very little of what was said was cohesive, though. There was a lot of talk about a stabbing that _didn’t_ happen.

The air in The Tower even smelled different, it all smelled of victory. Almost smelled of a new Age.

It was all a beautiful moment.

Tirion could barely get a word in, overwhelmed by the fact that it was finally _over_ and the unholy trinity of Haya, Kouhei and Lorc shouting in each other’s faces _._

Her team showed off the new weapons and armor they had managed to salvage on the Dreadnaught, some Guardians having to almost physically fight Ikora so that she wouldn’t steal it all to study it.

The Hall cleared quickly once the initial celebrations – or rather, _yelling -_ were over, the party moving elsewhere, and Tirion unwillingly getting dragged away with it. There was not much more to be done for the day besides to revel in the victory.

Shaxx retreated to the couch at the back of his den with a sigh once the Hall was finally _quiet_.

The war was pretty much over; there were still stray Taken, and the Dreadnaught, but their leader was now dead once and for all. All thanks to _her_. Her fireteam was a part of it, but it was her who did the heavy lifting, the one who made it possible to even _reach_ Oryx, and the one who realized that he wasn’t truly dead.

It was difficult to fathom that it was finally over.

Shaxx slowly loosened the neck straps on the helmet and pulled it off, breathing in the fresh air. Usually he never takes it off outside of his place, but today was an exception. Shaxx stared at it; at his own reflection on it and at the broken horn, stroking the ridges of it. He assumed that he now owed a story to particular someone about his lost horn, but that story doesn’t live up to slaying Oryx.

Truth be told, the story wasn’t that impressive to _begin with_ , but when you only have one horn on your helmet, how can you not use it to frighten new recruits?

“Hey, big guy…” The gentle whisper came from above, accompanying a familiar smile. Tirion looked a bit surprised over finding him there bare-faced.

Tirion had changed out of her battle armor, instead donning a short robe with a shiny, gold Queen’s insignia on the front.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to hide.” Tirion pointed towards the couch, as it took him a moment to collect himself.

He couldn’t say no to that voice. “Not at all.” She slowly sat down next to him, so close that her legs touched his. Tirion leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, as if contemplating. Nothing has sunk in yet, besides Oryx’ corpse into Saturn.

“So… we killed Oryx.” The casual tone of her voice made him laugh. Only she would pass it off as if Oryx was an annoying fly she swatted. She turned her head to look at him. “He uh, he had grown a _lot_ in size. I couldn’t get his skull for you. There was an… _attempt_.”

“That’s fine. I am fond of my skull. I’m glad you and your team made it out alive. I don’t even know what to say, for once.”

Tirion finally leaned back, letting herself finally relax after what felt like _years_ , letting out a slow breath.

For the first time in a long while, there was no rush to kill a god of sorts. It was an odd problem to have.

The Hall had never been this quiet. The _world_ has never been this quiet. You couldn’t even hear the ships landing. No one on the PA with announcements about incidents of some Guardians breaking something _yet again._

Just the two of them.

Tirion’s gaze was focused on something on the ceiling, as if she was seeing something beyond their realm. Saying that Tirion was happy over the ordeal being done was a _massive_ disservice to how she was feeling. There are still some remaining Taken to kill, but now she was _free._

No more being afraid of flying her ship because of Oryx, no more being afraid of catching a moment of rest. The starry sky offered peace to her once again. Free from orders, free from restraints. Free from being afraid to take some personal time because the Vanguard could message her any minute.

It was never _truly_ over, though. But she was going to enjoy this moment.

“I thought you’d rather celebrate with your team.” Shaxx felt like he was intruding the silence with his hoarse voice.

“I’m hiding from them until they leave.” Tirion let her glowing eyes fall on his deep brown ones. All the tension that has been rampant on her face for the past couple of months was now completely gone, life had found a way back into her face. Tirion even looked _younger_. “I forgot how exhausting it was to have them around. And I'd rather be here with you.”

Quite honestly, she didn’t know if she forgot how exhausting it was, or if she just grew up and no longer finds their particular antics amusing.

The question found a way out before he could stop it. “What about you and that _hunter_?”

Shaxx was afraid that that question told her more than he intended, as her eyes widened before she let out a small laugh. “Lorc?” He almost cringed at the name.

“The two of you seemed to be _very_ close. Not that I have a problem with it. But, it seems unfair to him to be here with _me_ if you two have something going on.”

Tirion laughed and looked down for a second, trying to pick her words. She didn’t want to deceive Shaxx. This was going to be awkward. She was aware of how it all came off, and how much it probably got on people’s nerves, especially with people that weren’t involved in the inside joke. It was part of the point, really.

She decided to just bite the bullet.

“Kouhei has an… _intolerance_ for non-Awoken, and Awoken being… _involved_ with Humans. Lorcan was salty about getting stabbed in the spine by Kouhei, I was salty about Kouhei’s Fist of Havoc fracturing most of my bones. We wanted to piss him off for a little while.”

Of all the things Shaxx expected to hear as an answer to his question, of _all_ the things he expected to hear _that night alone,_ that scenario didn’t even cross his mind. But, he has heard crazier things. Like her being responsible for the deaths of two Hive gods.

But it all – somehow – just made perfect sense with Tirion.

“It’s best to not ask questions. But, me actually being _involved_ with Lorc?” She wrinkled her nose. “That’s just _no_. A lot of the times I fully understand why he got stabbed first. I was going to ask you to rig the Crucible match rewards so that _I_ wouldn’t have to stab him.”

Tirion’s words slowly sunk in, and Shaxx was surprised at the relief he felt. That alone answering many questions he had for _himself_. What she said next only deepened the feeling.

“What, were you nervous that I might abandon you for some Hunter?”

She said it playfully, jokingly even, at first, but once Tirion returned her gaze to his eyes and saw the way he was looking at her, her own expression slowly turned into a serious one.

There was something different. It was as if that underlying coldness and aversion that was there a day ago hadn’t been there in the first place, the way Shaxx looked at her now reminded her of how he looked at her before she left, an intense look with that underlying _longing_. _  
_

Shaxx slowly raised his gloved hand and laid it on her shoulder, before hesitantly lifting it to her face, the tips of his fingers in her red hair. There was a lack of his usual hotheadedness, it had been replaced by a warm, tender touch, even through the cloth of the glove.

Tirion was this unstoppable force in his life. In everyone’s lives, really. A _crazy,_ unstoppable force.

Only then, only when he touched her, the full extent of the realization sunk in. Tirion was in front of him, unscathed, after returning from a battle most deemed to be impossible to win. He almost wanted to remove his glove, to reassure himself even further that _he_ hadn’t lost her. That the _Tower_ and the _City_ hadn’t lost her, rather. She welcomed the touch as she put her hand on top of his.

His other hand slowly joined in to fully cup her face, not taking his eyes off her, as she let the Titan pull her closer to him, eyes lidding and pulse raising as she realized what was happening.

“Yo, Guardian, are you there?”

And with those four and a half words, the moment was ruined and both of them froze.

Tirion slowly opened her eyes, finding herself less than an inch from the Titan’s face. He had his eyes closed, and reluctantly let go of her soft face by letting his hands simply drop, accompanied by a disappointed sigh.

Shaxx decided that he is no longer going to _kill_ that Exo.

He’s going to do something _worse_.

He wasn’t sure what it was going to be, but it was going to be _something worse._

Tower rules be completely _damned_ at that point _._

Why was it _always_ him? Why couldn’t he use the PA system like he _always_ does? He was about to stand up, but was intercepted as Tirion noticed the temper that he is known for return to his face.

Once Shaxx opened his eyes, she raised her hand to motion that she’s got it under control. She didn’t want the day ruined by Cayde being thrown off the Tower multiple times until he’s shaped like a Crucible arena.

She sprung up from the couch, peeking her head out, feeling a dizziness that had built up.

“ _Hi_.”

The Exo however, was completely oblivious.

“So, get this. I just came from this party, where the Guardian of honor just _disappeared_ up in smoke!” Cayde’s voice resounded through the hall. “Quite the disappointment, don’t ya think? I mean the rest of your team was _fine,_ until they left. And it became kinda awkward.”

She had to take a minute to land back on reality. “I uh…” she bit her lip, which made the thought process even worse. Her heart was beating faster than her thought process.

“Just uh, wanted to see whether Shaxx was here.” A _half-_ truth, so far so good. “I have new input on his sword project.” She was _horrible_ at lying. Luckily, the Exo didn’t seem to notice.

“And endorsing that crazy project of his can wait for tomorrow! What matters now is that Zavala is getting nervous, and my spicy ramen is getting _cold_.” Cayde impatiently pointed to the staircase behind him with his thumb. She couldn’t say bye to Shaxx without foiling her lie being believable.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “ _Ramen_ is a celebratory food for you?” She just wanted to stall, just a little bit, for a chance to go back.

“I’m celebrating the fact that the spicy ramen shop is still standing. And it’s because of you.” Cayde deflected. “And you’re one minute away from using your hero status to _buy_ me a new ramen _shop_ , because Zavala will trash the place, and then I’ll be sad, because there will be no more ramen for a while.” He sounded _awfully_ serious about the ordeal. “I’m derailing, he’s still mad at me but that’s really besides my point. You’re coming?”

“Looks like I have no choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I write something that seems silly then I remember that stuff like this is actually CANON IN GAME LORE:  
> http://www.ishtar-collective.net/cards/ghost-fragment-cayde-6
> 
> I pretty much listened to Slow It Down by the Lumineers on loop when writing the first part of the chapter.
> 
> Also:
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for all the nice comments! <3


	15. The Festival Of The Lost

Despite it being a week early, it was deemed appropriate to start the Festival of The Lost celebration at the victory party. A lot of people were lost in the war, and the inhabitants of The Tower needed to be cheered up, they needed this celebration.

**_"Those lost to us are remembered fondly. We celebrate their lives by having a little fun."_** Eva always used to say.

Tirion and Shaxx didn’t get to talk again during or after the party. She was too busy being dragged back and forth, with an additional struggle of trying to get away without giving the impression that she was on a hell-bent mission to leave. It didn’t take her long to pass out in her bed in her ship. She just didn’t know what to do.

She always enjoyed the yearly celebrations, though. She still retained her child-like wonder, her love for fairy tales and festivities. Just overnight The Tower had transformed; purple candles everywhere, and slings of lanterns that looked like engrams. Rahool was especially happy over that.

Tirion decided to sleep in that day. There was undoubtedly going to be a long line next to Eva, too much commotion. Old Eva never ran out of candy, and how she managed that was a mystery to all involved.

Her muscles were sore from the fighting yesterday. It felt like it happened forever ago, she still was in disbelief that Oryx was actually _dead._ Part of her believed that it was all a dream, and the Vanguard will contact her in a couple of minutes with another crazy mission.

When the war started, after returning from Phobos, she decided that this would be her final adventure. Not in a sense that she planned to die, but with the intent to retire.

She wanted a house, in the mountains. Not too high up, though. A small wooden house in a secluded place, with a nice view. She had found the perfect place for it when exploring, once. The minute she left Phobos she contacted some people, contractors. They reached an agreement that when the war was over, they would meet and start the planning and the construction. She was finally going to have a proper home.

There was also the issue of _what_ went down with Shaxx last night.

There was much adrenaline in the air after the victory, it would be easy to blame it on that. Nothing made sense last night. Nothing made sense yesterday. From Cayde choking up to them defeating Oryx to almost kissing Shaxx. It was one too many ridiculous things in this kind of ridiculous world.

The gentle way he had looked at her, the excitement, it was imprinted in her mind. She wanted more of that feeling, more of that _warmth_ , but there was still that doubt at the back of her mind. That _nagging_ voice, that it was _just_ the surge of victory against a Hive god. That neither of them had been thinking clearly. Nothing gets the blood pumping more than annihilating a Hive god.

Maybe it was for the best that Cayde interrupted them.

She heard the tiniest of chirps. “Don’t do it, Little Light.”

It seemed that her little companion had developed too much of a personality to abide the standby protocol.

“There was elevated heart rate. Aren’t you two just adorable, though?” Ghost beamed.  She was in too much pain to push him away so a half-hearted roll of eyes had to suffice.

“Messages?”

“Nothing from the Vanguard, feels _odd_. Some things from Dead Orbit, and Amanda about your ship and…” He stopped for a moment, trying to make sense of things. “And messages from… suitors. Though you got less messages than Haya. But, I think most of them know that they would have to fistfight Shaxx over you.”

“I have half the mind to let you tell them that. Who got the most messages?”

“Kouhei and Lorcan.”

“I didn’t even make top three!?”

“Er…”

“Top four?” Ghost avoided her gaze. “ _Sixth place?!”_

“Kouhei, Lorcan, Haya, Huritt, Alva and then… you. In last place. Sorry. _Oh,_ Haya just got one more.”

Oh, Tirion was _tempted._ She was _so_ tempted to get together with them and make it to a contest, and don’t let old, bad, _immature_ habits die. But, she had to be an adult.

Kouhei had that natural angry demeanor about himself that women liked.

Lorcan, though sometimes insufferable, was charming when he wanted to and great with kids.

Tirion has always been jealous of Haya’s _presence_ in a room; the way she carries herself. In a different world, Haya would have been the one in Tirion’s place, but that Titan always refused leadership roles. If Tirion would have to pick a replacement in case something happens, she’d definitely recommend Haya.

Huritt was incredibly smart. And Tirion was prepared to fistfight people that weren’t right for Alva.

So all in all, she wasn’t mad. But it still stung. She didn’t have the greatest personality nor the best appearance; partly because she was constantly plagued by stress which started to show on her face.

After some queues at the Hangar, they finally managed to land and Tirion wasted no time getting into the festivities. She was blown away by how beautiful The Tower looked; there was a significant shift in the mood of the place. On that day, there was barely any difference seen between the behavior of a young child and a veteran Guardian.

Besides Eris; she wanted little to do with it, offering people raisins, and cursing the concept of the festival.

No one had accidentally set themselves on fire yet because of the candles, much to everyone’s surprise.

After a couple of hours of running around The Tower and The City below, Tirion had a half bag of candy and a handful of masks hanging on her arm, which she got for trading candy with some children. A lot of them recognized her despite her mask, but she had reached a deal with most of the children than they shouldn’t tell anyone they saw her.

Most were obedient, few wanted extra candy.

She felt joy over the fact that neither Oryx nor Crota managed to strip her enjoyment of the things most would consider childish. She was convinced that if she can survive those horrors without losing integral parts of her, she could survive anything.

Even with that mindset it took her a while to make her way down to the Hall, not knowing what to expect.

“This... is ridiculous.” The vein on the Titan’s forehead was almost visible through the helmet. Despite his objections, he still abided the task. It took a while for the crowd around him to disperse. He wasn’t wearing a mask on top of the helmet, she just assumed that it was part of the compromise Shaxx reached with Eva.

“Having fun?” The Warlock chuckled as she slowly approached him, almost apprehensively.

“I—“ He stopped himself when he saw Tirion. His eyes wandered over to her satchel and her collection of masks, that alone distracting him from some images from last night. “ _You_ too?”

It’s not like he was surprised, events like these were right up her alley.

It was more alluded to the fact that he had to spend half the day setting up notices that during the event, that he nor The Crucible was not viable for injuries sustained therein as a result of Guardians not wearing helmets. Paper masks offered little protection, despite the Ghosts. Ghosts could do surprisingly little for permanent brain damage. On top of that, the performance of some Guardians made it hard to figure out who was _actually_ brain damaged.

He also was busy with sending out his Redjacks to the Dreadnaught, now that it was ownerless and harmless, for the most part, more areas could be explored. Guardians needed a new arena, and a sacred burial site in the bowels of the ship was just the perfect place.

Tirion already grabbed her share of candy from his pile, that smile of hers never falling. She lived in her own little world in that moment. Tirion wore her casual robes, no weapons on her. Her hair that usually was tied up with complex braids now hung loose, constantly falling in front of her face.

You wouldn’t believe the stories told about her by them own. Finding out that _she_ did those things was even more difficult to comprehend.

“What’s next for you, after Oryx?” She was looking through her masks as he said that, fixated on them, as if she was searching for a specific one. “Quite difficult to top that.”

“Contractors.” She finally said, briefly glancing up at him. “House building.” She clarified as she struggled to separate a mask from the pile she had, reveling in her tiny victory once she freed it. The mask depicted the head of a tiger, she was especially proud of getting her hands on it. Seemed to be the rarest one. That kid that sold it to her for candy didn’t even know what he had.

He was surprised at the disappointment he felt when hearing those words. “You’re leaving the Tower?”

“Not _leaving,_ per se. I’ve been living in my ship the past couple of years. I want my _own_ home. With a nice view. Somewhere far away.” She explained as she fondly looked down at the mask, as if deliberately avoiding his gaze. He saw Tirion’s pale fingers straighten out some corners of the mask that had bent as she was carrying the masks in her pile.

“And _you_ need a mask.”

The Awoken smirked mischievously as she turned the mask to show it to Shaxx. A tiger was very fitting; the king of the beasts, fiery, fearsome, strong. Passionate. Matched his color scheme.

“No.”

Stubborn.

“Oh, come _on_!”

“I _won’t_.”

He _wasn’t_ going to take part in these antics. Giving out candy was already more than he wanted to tolerate. He had important things to do without looking like a _fool_. The slight, half-hearted pout that had formed on her face did _nothing_ to help his resilience.

He was better than this.

He _knew_ he was better than this.

He wasn’t going to succumb to this.

Tirion reached out to hand him the mask, a simple movement. They’ve been stuck in a stare-off for what seemed like ten minutes, neither of them budging. _Guess the Titan stubbornness has rubbed off on her._

She was about to withdraw the mask, disappointed. Tirion knew that at the end of the day it was a bit pointless to try. The Titan finally let out a groan, giving up.

“ _Fine_. Hand it over.” It was a celebration, it’s just right for him to do this. Her face lit up when he grabbed the mask from her hand, trying not to crush it. With much reluctance he put the paper mask on top of his helmet, securing it with the string.

This was _ridiculous_. _She_ was ridiculous. Among many other things.

“Perfect!” Tirion laughed, clasping her hands in front of her face. She heard a group of Guardians coming down the stairs, her cue to leave. “Alright. Catch you later!”

The Hivebane, too charming for her own good.

* * *

 

“Out of plain curiosity. If you could have a dream Crucible arena, what would it be?” She asked mid-report writing, feeling a headache coming on from trying to explain how they took down Oryx.

They’ve known each other for a while, and Tirion was surprised that she never asked him that question. And she was curious.

“Depends on the circumstances.”

“I didn’t know that the word ‘circumstance’ was in your vocabulary.”

“It _very_ much is.” Shaxx said with a laugh, and continued. “Definitely a Cabal warship.”

“You managed to make an arena out of a Tombship around the Dreadnaught. Why is a Cabal ship stopping you?” He glanced back at her briefly when he heard the words. He had taken off the paper mask, but still kept it on the desk.

“Finding a dormant Cabal warship is _impossible_. Sending the Redjacks in to take one would just escalate the war between us and the Cabal. And would most likely fail before they enter the ship.” He explained. “Maybe someday when their learning algorithm has advanced.”

Contrary to what most Guardians think, his selection of arenas is not based on _‘Why not?’,_ they’re chosen so that the Guardians would familiarize themselves with enemy architectures and how they work. A Cabal Warship would be perfect, but completely unattainable. The Cabal have shown themselves to become a bigger and bigger threat every day. Despite the Guardians calling them _space turtles,_ the Cabal _needed_ to be taken seriously.

Tirion was now re-reading the mess of words she had written on the datapad and sighing. Tirion didn’t have the easiest events to put into words and she promised the report to be delivered by tomorrow and had procrastinated until the night.

Tirion had _no_ idea what she was writing, she was hoping that Huritt had sent in his official report so she wouldn’t have to do all the science herself, as she ended the report with a phrase that resembled _“consult Hurrit’s report on what had happened because I simply don’t understand it, I just shoot things.”_

“How did the world become this mess?” She whispered to herself as she sent in the report that would require _at least_ six Warlocks to decipher, as with her other poorly-written reports. Tirion was certainly tired of fixing it, to the point where sometimes she barely felt like an individual anymore.

Tirion’s been remembering, remembering the Golden Age. There are moments, objects that prompt her to remember things against her will. She remembered when people’s biggest concern was a stain on their business suits, or being late for a meeting, or a magnet placed the wrong way.

Frankly, Tirion wished she wouldn’t remember a _damn thing_.

Rationalizing minions of Darkness would be much simpler without knowing that the world was normal once. How the ruins she encounters when patrolling looked like back then, or all the _people_ being excited to explore the System, boarding the colony ships. To improve humanity, to build cities beyond, to conduct science to improve life, to be able to laugh every day and have a bright outlook on the future. No dreams of homicidal aliens trying to exterminate life, no dreams of people being brought back from the dead to fight a battle that couldn’t be won. _Everyone_ knows that this battle couldn’t be won. Everyone knows but they keep on fighting.

All of their accomplishments were now in _vain._ All of it now was _rubble_. The cities and outposts they have built on Mars are now the Cabal’s exclusion zone. The academy on Venus is now where the Fallen sleep in-between the territorial war they have going on with the Vex. Earth got the worst of it. Majority of those people are now lingering skeletons, waiting for a Ghost, to wake up with no memory of what was before. All of their knowledge that could actually help to win the battle against the Darkness lost to time.

Scientists, scholars, inventors. Generals, teachers, tacticians. Commanders, weapon smiths. Engineers, doctors. Pioneers in their fields. All _gone_.

It _all_ stops mattering once you become a Guardian. You are just given a _gun_ and a _good luck._

Tirion couldn’t help but wonder if all of her _own_ heroics will be in vain in a century or two. She knew all of this was bigger than herself, and it just made it worse. If it’s all in vain then those innocents down in the City won’t have a future. All she could do now is to be an icon of sorts, to encourage them to be happy, because they are going to be sad later.

She could just run away and enjoy life until the world draws a line for her. To do things that make her happy until it’s time to hold the line. Building a house was a start; maybe the little act will inspire people to re-build. Tirion believed that the world could be re-built, but it won’t be long until a force will come to wipe it all away.

The happiness from the celebrations that day was just a distraction that was bound to wear off. She was wrong about the Darkness not stealing integral parts of her.

She just wanted to have _one_ day, _one_ moment. A small whoosh brought her back to the world.

“Haya just messaged you, Guardian. There seems to be a very severe Taken problem manifesting on Venus. She needs help.” Her Ghost informed.

“What?” Tirion’s voice unintentionally cracked, prompting Shaxx to turn around and look at her. “It’s... it’s 1 in the morning! What!? Why is Haya awake at 1 in the morning and in the _field?_ ”

“She said it’s urgent.” Tirion reluctantly sat up, being half convinced that it was all a prank. Shaxx still hadn’t taken his gaze off her. She was almost trembling, a complete opposite of how she had acted earlier in the day.

“Are you alright?”

She attempted a smile and failed. “I have a lot to think about.” She looked down briefly at her feet before gazing up at him. “I… I also never really got a chance to thank you, Shaxx. For putting up with my nonsense the past couple of months.” Tirion felt a nervousness creep on her, but she refused to let it discourage her. “You mean a lot to me, Shaxx.” 

In that moment, he _loathed_ his helmet. Loathed all the decorations. Loathed the barriers.

“It wasn’t nonsense… Not by any means.” He said softly, trying to think of a way to continue with words.

“I hate to interrupt this touching moment, but we _have_ to go.” There were certain moments where she wanted to throw the little bot into the Black Garden… In its dying breath, The Traveler created the Ghosts, to be deterring. In her Ghost's defense, they could have had that conversation at any given moment.

Tirion closed her eyes and sighed. “Duty calls…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I could have made this chapter fluffy and happy but you know what, let's not do that.
> 
> That Guardian life, though.


	16. The Evaluation of Life

“This is not a matter that we have control over, I’m afraid.”

Tirion sighed, scratching the back of her head. The world couldn’t calm down for _one_ week. Just when things were starting to get back to normal.

“As for now, it’s just preliminary planning. We’re trying to find the best candidate for the mission. But so far, the best candidate seems to be _you_ , Guardian.” Ikora said. “And you have to be reviewed. So, if you’re lucky, you might not even get picked.”

They lost her a bit with the last part. “Who’s the... er, client?”

“Saladin Forge.” Zavala was the only one who dared to speak _the_ name. Only thing Tirion knew about Saladin was him being cold to her during Iron Banner, and what Shaxx told her.

“What does he need help with? _Brooding?_ ” At least her statement got a chuckle out of Cayde. It’s been _one_ week since Oryx had been killed. Tirion hasn’t done much in the past week, besides doing some strikes and going on some adventures with Haya, who had a change of heart and decided to exterminate the remaining Taken instead of taking every Titan she sees. Her excuse being that Warlocks and Hunters were too fragile. Tirion never asked for en elaboration on that.

Despite the _relatively_ calm week, she hasn’t gotten any sleep the past two days. Too many things to think about combined with late-night adventures to exterminate the rest of the Taken.

But since yesterday, Tirion has been barred from combat. There was an _evaluation_ that prevented her from fighting. For Tirion, putting off doing it was more pressing than the threat of Oryx. 

“Lord Saladin refused to disclose that, all he asked from us is to find a Guardian for a mission. We thought it be best to inform you and ask for you approval before we send the report to him. To avoid... incidents.”

With a raised eyebrow, she took the datapad from Ikora’s hands. The report was lengthy, too long to skim trough, one particular part caught her attention.

_... to answer your question, when it came time to reach out, to find a Guardian to take on this mission, there was only one choice._   
_\- She stood against the Vex in the Black Garden, and grounded that place to Mars._   
_\- She went against the Hive in the dark below, working with Eris Morn to undermine Crota, the Hive God._   
_\- The Reefborn made use of the Guardian in their search for the criminal Skolas, as I understand._   
_\- And, of course, it was the Guardian that led the assault on the Taken King's Dreadnaught._   
_All of the after-action reports I've shown you about the Taken War, the calm state of the system... we have Tirion to thank._   
_I've attached more details, if you want to read evaluations from the Vanguard. Just skim Cayde's. He's... not very biased, here._

“So, what do you say Guardian?” Ikora asked, ignoring the raised eyebrows on Tirion’s face. 

“I didn’t _lead_ the assault on Oryx’ Dreadnaught and I have that damned... that _evaluation_. I’m barred from combat, remember?” They could undoubtedly find another Guardian that was perfectly qualified for this.

She _could_ be un-barred from combat if she would just suck it up and pay a visit to the Evaluator. She’d rather risk getting in trouble by sneaking out than to have her brain analyzed by people who haven’t been to the Dreadnaught. Haven’t been _outside of the Towe_ r, rather.

“We are in no position to say no to Iron Lords, and they can overrule it.”

Cayde scoffed at Zavala’s statement. “Yeah, Tirion should know all about not being able to refuse a Lord— _Noooope_.”

Cayde quickly cut himself off. It wasn’t worth getting a shiv in his metal skull. It also wasn’t worth the embarrassment when they would ask him to explain that attempt at a joke.

He was a Hunter, with the ability to know how many people there are in a room, even through walls. Often times what they were _doing_. He was good at his job _most_ of the time. Even with that, it took him a while to realize what he had interrupted during the party a week ago.

It drove him completely _nuts_ because he couldn’t talk to _anyone_ about it. Not even Tirion. Sometimes, some jabs slipped out. Cayde knew a secret _so_ _deep_ he didn’t even want to blackmail Shaxx with it. The _endless_ list of bets he could make about it was not even the biggest problem. It had more to do with the _slight possibility_ that Shaxx might _not_ be just a walking suit of armor with nothing but unadulterated anger in it. It was the equivalent of stumbling upon evidence that suggests that the Traveler _might_ be a square instead of an orb. 

Either way, he was stuck in a rut filled with _many_ questions. He just needed Shaxx to lose a bet, to conduct a _test._ But, considering all the extra work that will happen soon, it'll have to wait until the Dawning.

“Do you have anything to say, Cayde?”

The answer to Ikora’s question was _yes_ , but he shook his head, waiting for Tirion to make a decision.

Deep inside, Tirion knew that in a few days, she would be _bored_. Being barred or not. She didn’t think Saladin could present an ordeal that was worse than Oryx. The misfits also were running out of things to do, and it would be a _shame_ if they would leave _any_ work for the other Guardians…

“Send it in.”

“I was expecting _more_ backlash. Nice to see you grow up.” Ikora admitted as she tapped on the datapad, making some last minute corrections.

Tirion decided to withhold further comments as she made her way out of the room. There are many things she _could_ have said. Luckily for her, the expert on the subject just returned from the Crucible observatory.

“There is no easy way to say this: What advice do you have for working with Lord Saladin?”

Shaxx grunted at the question. “What?”

“He is looking for Guardians for a mission. Not sure exactly what.”

Shaxx had a bad feeling about it all. His last experience working with Saladin was over a century ago, but Guardians and – Titans, more so - are _too_ stubborn for change.

“What could he _possibly_ want? Help with agonizing over the wind blowing the wrong way, then be upset that the wind doesn’t obey orders?” _A case in point about cases in point._ “If he actually asks for help, the world is on the verge of _ending._ He works alone unless he can’t help it.”

His outburst, even though not surprising, worried her. Judging by how much emphasis he put on the world ending, Tirion had a distinct feeling that there will be some big changes to the Crucible soon.

“Do you think he knows about Oryx?”

He shook his head. “He can barely see outside of his own overly-embellished helmet.” Tirion cast a glance at his broken horn for a second. _Titans._

She sighed. “Gotcha. I’ll let you get back to work.”

This is the part where she _usually_ walks away, in a hurry for Taken related business. The only remaining duties she had for now were on the Moon, and she _wasn’t_ going to go back there. There was a deal reached with the Vanguard and her Fireteam about that. Tirion wasn’t allowed to go anywhere combat related until she got over her pride and let herself be evaluated. A lot of people seem to consider killing a Hive god _not_ a walk in the park, combined with all the other crazy things she has done.

Just after half a day, the confinement of the Tower and the City felt claustrophobic.

“I want to get into the next Crucible match.”

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but: _no_. Don’t try to stare me down, either.”

“I can _try._ ”

“Won’t work this time. The City needs you, Guardian. Stop holding it off.” She sighed at the words, spinning around on her heels. He was right, _always_ right.

“ _You_ too!” Tirion just _had_ to tease him with a smile before walking away.

* * *

 

“Glad you made it, Tirion.” The evaluator was an old Awoken. Tirion wondered how it must be like, to be forever stuck in a state past your prime. He was wearing a hood and his voice was hoarse. She nodded and took a seat in front of him without a word.

“I would like for your Ghost to be present during this.”

She raised her hand and summoned the little bot. “Why, though?” Tirion asked.

“Just in case a Guardian tries to tell a tale that conflicts with reality.” Tirion scoffed at the statement. This was going to be a long,  _long_ meeting. “Though with you, I can imagine that it might be difficult to discern one from the other.”

“Let’s get this over with.” She didn’t know if she was bored or anxious. “Also, why can an Iron Lord overrule this? Doesn’t seem fair.”

“This meeting is not about _Lord_ Saladin, it’s about _you_. The more you stall the longer we’ll be here together. I’m going to ask you a series of questions.”

“Do all Guardians go through this?” Stalling was her second nature, and she noticed the evaluator typing something on the datapad.

“Yes. But I am the one asking questions.”

“With all due respect, you have a blind woman seeing visions, you have a Frame with a stress disorder, you have a man with _severe_ temper issues, you got a Warlock that keeps hearing Hive chanting, you have a hunter that deals with…” She paused for a second, scowling. “I dunno, Exo grief issues with humor, and then you have a Titan… actually, Zavala is alright.” She had _no_ idea where she was going with this, besides throwing all her energy into avoiding being questioned. The evaluator offered no comment, as the outburst gave him more than enough to work with.

“These questions are going to be about the last 6 months. First one. Do you have trouble sleeping?”

She couldn’t avoid it. “There has been no time to sleep the last six months.” Her voice was flat, almost emotionless and hoarse, as she succumbed to the questioning, being forced to actually focus on reality.

“Are you scared about a lot of things in your life?”

“I feel like if I say anything to that question I will jinx everything.” She saw him type. “That was not even an answer! Come _on_!”

“Yes it was. You are anxious and worried about Oryx not being the end. You _constantly_ fear that something will attack the City, at a borderline paranoid level.” Tirion was about to leave. She didn’t need mind mumbo-jumbo. “Yes, I’ve read your reports.”

“What if I’m right? What if Oryx isn’t the end, or the worst we have faced?” The Evaluator ignored that question, for now at least.

“Do you suffer from nightmares that reflect things you have experienced while out in the field?”

Tirion lifted her hands up to tie her fingers together, to stop them from shaking. “Yes.”

“What kind?”

_The answer is yes,_ “Hive thralls pinning me down and trapping me and then clawing me to pieces, next question.”

He was surprised at her casual tone. “Care to el—“

“No.” Tirion cut him off quickly. There was barely _any_ hope or idea with interviewing her, and her Ghost was uncharacteristically silent. The evaluator tapped his foot, reading over something as he tried to not let the annoyance show. 

It took a long moment until he spoke again.

“I can’t say that I can in good conscience allow you to hold a gun again. Your mission reports hold far more answers than you’re willing to share.” Tirion refused to accept that conclusion. She _wasn’t_ going to give up fighting.

“Can I have a report on that?” She regretted her words instantly.

“Fine. You broke into the Vault of Glass just to be reckless without cause.” He started off, and Tirion prepared for it with a silent sigh. “ _Ever_ since then you’ve been under _constant_ orders to shoot things. I’ve evaluated Guardians who have been on missions to the moon who vowed to never return after just two visits. And you…”

He scrolled through something on the datapad, mouth agape.

“You’ve practically made a _home_ there. Including killing a Hive god, then stealing the Hive god’s _soul_. Then you went on to kill another Hive god, two times. _How_ are you still functioning?” He sounded legitimately flabbergasted over the fact that she wasn’t a husk laughing manically in the corner.

She shrugged. It was a _very_ good question. “To be fair the second Hive god wasn’t on the moon.”

The Evaluator continued. “Following orders has been the only life you’ve known since you got revived, you don’t know _anything_ else. You are _brash_ , impulsive, traumatized, borderline _offensive_ in many cases, on a mission to fix the world with _no_ ability to refuse an order given to you, not allowing _yourself_ to control _you_. You are a living _weapon_ , don’t you realize that, Tirion? Now, suddenly, there is _no one_ to control it. You’re about to _run out_ of orders. _What_ will you do after you’re done with Saladin?”

_That_ shut her up. She hated the fact that it made sense. She was unfamiliar with the concept of leaving something unfinished, the world not saved. Disappointing people. _Every single thing_ had to be finished. One day of being barred from combat and she’s already fidgety.

Tirion can’t say she _asked_ for any of that.

“Build a house.” She finally said. “Build a house and hide away before a new war starts, I think. That’s been my plan all along.”

The evaluator quickly realized that all of it meant that Trion just wanted to be _free._

She fought and followed orders for the possibility of at the end being _free._ She wasn’t a person that abided common sense in a _lot_ of cases. She never fought for the world, or fame, or glory. She just fought for _herself._

If it meant killing a Hive god, then she’d do it.

However, she seemed to _never_ realize the option of running away, to let it go, to disappear, has _always_ been there at any given time.

But, it meant letting the world _burn._

So maybe, just _maybe_ , her motivations weren’t selfish. She still cared for the world, to some extent. She had the power to let the Vex kill the Traveler, she had the power to ignore Crota, she had the power to ignore Oryx moving on to another realm. Tirion had the power to never go to Phobos in the first place and retire then and there.

But, it all turned out hurting her in the end.

Worst part was that she didn’t even have a _clue_. Oblivious to the world around her, getting herself stuck in a world of fairytales and dreams of a house because she doesn’t want to face the truth.

Tirion will _never_ be free now. Not from the things she has seen. They will _never_ let go of her. They have a grip on her with the strength of God. The Darkness was like a cancer in her mind, slowly growing and slowly corrupting. He needed extra evaluations of course, evaluations that she wouldn’t agree to, but the Darkness has its way with affecting a Guardian.

“You will _never_ be free…” The Evaluator said his thoughts out loud, watching the angry façade fall from Tirion’s face, as her eyes were now downcast and she bit the inside of her lip. Tirion did her best to avoid looking at him, to not show _any_ sort of vulnerability. 

The evaluator pitied her. It was like telling someone that they were at death’s door. Except it was even worse with Guardians. Being in a state of perpetually dying without the ability to die. What should he tell Tiron? He wondered. To enjoy life until she becomes a husk? It’s not a situation she would be able to _shoot_ herself out of. As long as Light was in the world, she should be fine.

“Tirion, you can’t deal with your… _distress_ caused by all this by shooting things, nor holing yourself up and hiding from the world.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

He continued. “Running away from here, building that house of yours you frequently mention, it won’t lead to you having a good life. You need a balance. It won’t _ever_ go away but you _can_ manage it.”

“So what? So that I won’t snap one day and kill someone because I think that they’re a Thrall about to explode?”

“It’s… worse than that. But we can certainly start there.”

She lifted her hand up to wipe the slight wetness from her eyes, pretending that the evaluator didn’t notice. In the past three years, she hasn’t shed a tear. Not even before Oryx. Tirion swallowed the lump in her throat in an attempt to fight it. _Not going to happen._

“You keep mentioning that you don’t think Oryx is the end, care to elaborate?”

It was like a sixth sense that she had. Maybe it was because war has become part of her daily routine, maybe it was some long forgotten Warlock sense that she had activated in her head. Perhaps it was a result of her being exposed to far too much Vex and Hive sorcery.

“I have a feeling that something _very bad_ is going to happen _soon_.” She whispered. “I can _feel_ it in the threads of Light… I keep remembering things, things from the Golden Age. I remember that deep… _feeling_ everyone seemed to feel shortly before the Darkness came. It… er, feels the same now.”

Tirion desperately wished that she was better at words, better at expressing this strange, rather superstitious feeling of fear and panic without sounding like a madwoman. The evaluator did mention that it was at a borderline paranoid level.

Maybe he was right. She hoped he was right.

“Any ideas what it could be?”

Tirion shrugged slightly. “It could be anything. Hive, Vex, Cabal… they all have the power and means. All I know is that the Traveler’s Light, nor our Light will be enough to face it. There will be something that ambushes us and…” Tirion let out a shaky sigh. “I won’t be there to defend it.”

“Won’t be there because you’ll run away, or won’t be there because you won’t have the strength?” Tirion for once stopped to think about that. The answer was _yes_ to both. 

But for now, she didn’t want to think about it. She flat out refused.

She just wanted to enjoy life until it happens.

Tirion smiled.

_It’s going to be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allllright! 
> 
> We got the angsty chapters out of the way!
> 
> Saladbar in next chapter.  
> You know what that means!


	17. The Tale of a (Once) Two Horned Young Wolf

Felwinter’s Peak was astonishing. The temple itself held a lot of beauty and sadness, she barely dared to speak when she was standing in it. This beautiful place, locked away for centuries. 

Lord Saladin was nothing like she expected him to be. He was very somber at first, for a good reason. SIVA was a serious threat and there was no time to waste when it came to shutting it down.

Tirion had her own angry opinions about Saladin waiting this long to notify the Vanguard about the Plaguelands, but never let them take audible form. She was all for working alone, but very against being so stubborn that you won't accept help from others until the world has the chance of ending. Fallen prompting it to spread or not, it has been there for the Fallen to find, with a mere bandage put on it that inevitably withered away.

Despite all that, the tale of the Iron Lords' final deaths broke Tirion’s heart; she would have loved and been honored to have met them before they died. Rasputin was involved, it made part of her want to go back to the Tower and be a little smug towards Zavala about wanting to work with the AI. She has been spending too much time with her misfits.

But, it all explained as to why Saladin was as aversive to others as he was. Losing your friends, the closest thing you had to a blood-related family in that way is something few recover from.

Shutting down the SIVA replicator was emotionally draining, Tirion couldn’t even imagine what Saladin must’ve went through back at the temple. 

Corpses still being held alive by SIVA; corpses of the Iron lords, his friends mutilated, waiting there dormant for centuries. According to her Ghost, the place hasn't been touched for about 600 years. A number Tirion couldn't even begin to wrap her head around. No one knew if anything of _them_ remained in those abominations, but it was best to not think about it. Tirion gladly eased their pain.

SIVA was contained, and the Iron Lords were at peace.

The Iron Lords sounded like a very close knit family, and Saladin obviously missed them, telling stories about Skorri’s singing, and how Silmar helped him build the temple. They didn't deserve their life to end with that much suffering. Saladin had a good heart, but it was plagued with sorrow from the battles and losses he had endured. Though now, he was free from his vigil. Now, he could _finally_ move on. Once it all was done, he didn't even resemble the Titan that now and then came to the Tower, to stand infront a burning disc being slightly condescending. 

She noticed that a lot of Saladin’s traits have been transferred over to Shaxx and Zavala, the way they stand and the way they speak. And the way Zavala is the _only one_ who seems to possess the ability to control the volume of his voice.

Tell whole ordeal took about a week, but there was still work to be done around in the Plaguelands. Even though SIVA was shut down, the Splicers weren’t. Most of it was for nothing if they keep spreading and experimenting with it.

A visit to the Tower was due to regroup with her misfits, but she enjoyed the serenity of the mountains too much to leave. She had found a remote little place to sit and read in the Peak, while watching some very determined Guardians – and sometimes, wolves – try to climb the mountain. 

The sight was both fun and _very_ disturbing to witness. She considered encouraging her misfits to slack off at work, maybe disappear for a year again, so that these poor Guardians would have something meaningful to do. Why was it _always_ the dancing and the climbing? She wondered what the Traveler might think of this; using his gifts for small joys of life.

Tirion didn't exactly judge them, though. There hasn't been this much peace since the brief moment between Crota's death and Oryx' arrival. There was always something more coming. Best to revel in small joys of life while you can. Hence why she was reading and enjoying the fresh air, not slacking and procrastinating with life and some of her responsibilities.

“You know it's starting to concern me how seldom you talk all of a sudden. We've been through a lot together, the neural symbiosis is pretty far progressed, but you'd be surprised how little I understand what you're thinking." Her Ghost flied in front of her view, between her and her book as he said that. Tirion had read that fairytale book cover to cover about 10 times since she has acquired it from Shaxx, always keeping it on her or in her ship, refusing to admit the fact that she was quite scared of Ikora. Book or not, Tirion always wondered why they didn't just send Ikora to deal with Crota and Oryx instead. Ikora certainly had the strength to do it, as her just simply standing in a room alone put all the Warlocks in a 10 mile radius to _shame_.

Maybe Tirion shouldn't be worried about a possible attack on the Tower when they have Ikora. Despite Tirion being almost too frightened by her to have a proper conversation with her, she held immense respect for Ikora. Maybe Tirion should show the book to her, so they can have a proper conversation. But it might also end up with Tirion waking up in a dark room with most of her stuff missing.

Tirion smiled a bit at her tiny, worried companion blinking at her with his one blue eye. She hasn’t talked that much the last week. At all, even. Sometimes she cut in to stop her Ghost from saying something too snide. Partly because she was overwhelmed and didn’t want to say something disrespectful, and because she was busy thinking about what the Evaluator said.

Or rather, the things he _didn’t_. She knew that she was sick, but not with what, or what it was. Living life in ignorance and re-reading the same book over and over was easier for Tirion.

There has been a lot to think about. A lot of thinking about the future. A lot of thinking where she wants her life to go, a lot of thinking about whether she even wants to keep fighting in the first place. Up until the visit she hadn't entertained how a life without fighting might actually feel. It was because she didn't know of any other life. 

_A gun and a good luck, Guardian._

She sighed. This week was nothing like Tirion expected.

On top of that, Tirion was also trying to develop a filter, as jokes about the Awoken being killed still didn’t sit quite right with a lot of people. Neither did it with her any more.

Another Guardian fell from the mountain with a loud yell, cursing his fireteam as he plummeted, distracting both Tirion and her Ghost.

“That makes _fifty_ today!” Ghost said. “I feel sorry for my fellow Ghosts. Should I tell them that there is only a box up there? I think the only Ghost that might have it worse is the one that is being Cayde’s voice of reason.”

Tirion was almost tempted to let him. But, watching fellow Guardians revel in small victories when climbing it was fun. She wasn’t going to ruin that for others, they needed that.

The chants of victory when some of them got to the top were quite great to witness, and all the trash talking. _Especially_ the trash talking.

There was still one issue that she needed an answer for. Things were left off rather inconsistent after this week, and it’s going to drive her up the walls until she deals with it. She was a Warlock, and in true Warlock fashion she had to know everything.

She was very careful when walking over to where Saladin was in the temple, trying to avoid any Guardians falling on her. It was getting a _bit_ ridiculous. Saladin, Tyra nor Shiro had no complaints.

Tirion also didn’t quite expect Cayde’s protégé to be that serious. At least when Cayde was somewhat snobby at times, he made it _funny_. Grating at times, but it always held some kind of comedic value. She was too young to have temptations of walking up to Shiro and to give him a _Listen up, kid_ speech. Tirion decided to leave that to Kouhei once he finally snaps. Making sure he doesn't have a hidden dagger first, that is.

”Lord Saladin.”

Saladin looked up from his desk, the flickering fire landing on his face.

“Lady Guardian.” She appreciated that title more than _“Young Wolf”._ The endearingness of the latter title has almost decayed away.

“May I ask you something? I’m sorry if it’ll come across out of line.”

Saladin almost knew what the matter will be about. “Feel free.”

Tirion took a shaky breath before asking. “Twilight Gap. It’s about Lord Shaxx. I’ve been thinking it over, and I can’t seem to understand, why the _antagonism_ for what he did? The City wouldn’t be standing if it weren’t for him.” Tirion saw the change in his expression once the words were spoken, but she had to ask. It seemed too amiss.

There evidently was something that Shaxx didn’t trust her enough to tell her. She wasn’t sure if she was willing to move on until she knew.

“I know you’ve been in war, but have you ever _led_ an army, _young wolf_?” Saladin asked, and for _once_ the nickname seemed appropriate.

“Only a small group of leg breakers, thieves and backstabbers.” The Iron Lord had questions, but he didn’t ask them.

“Then you have more military experience than Shaxx had during the war. That should say enough.” He closed the book he was reading to be able to focus. Tirion sat down on the wooden chair on the other side of the desk, this was going to take a while by the looks of it. All the decor around the temple was very old-fashioned. Tirion wondered if he actually believed that chainmail is good against bullets.

“Zavala already had the experience when I took him in, already proficient in battle and leadership. He was a natural. Shaxx was… well, how to put this: when you wield a flaming hammer, everything around you takes the shape of a nail.”

It sounded as if Twilight Gap happened _yesterday_. “Nothing much has changed, to be honest.”

Saladin laughed under his breath. “I don’t doubt that, Guardian. As Titans are, unchanging unless a fire has been lit. He was smart, a good combatant, eager to learn. Eager to have better armor than the rest, eager to be taller than the rest, eager to stand out more than the rest, but he was still a _young wolf_ despite the eagerness and the spectacles. It only made sense to take him in as my pupil, to show him the _true_ way of battle.”

“And knowing him he didn’t bode well with authority and people calling the shots for him.” She guessed, her statement feeling intrusive.

Saladin was quite surprised by how well she knew the young Titan, and wondering why she was so curious about him. He can't say he blamed her, as very few people actually know _what_ Shaxx actually is, much less _who._

“Exactly.” He said before his face turned quizzical. “Are you two… close?”

She felt a twinge of nervousness at the words, hoping that it didn’t show. It was _complicated_ at best.

Tirion cleared her throat. “Whenever one of Tower factions tries to interfere with the Crucible he wants to straight up, er, _murder_ the said faction. He’s very… _protective_ of the very few things he deeply cares about.” It was a _little_ exaggerated, but it deflected the question and was a satisfying answer. It felt like preaching to the choir, because without a doubt there have been issues with the implementation of the Iron Banner. Arguing with Shaxx is one thing, arguing trough a proxy - which is Arcite, most of the times - is even more infuriating.

“Well." He continued. "Shaxx conjured an army of battle frames to show his worth. He showed great leadership skill with them, at least. The frames were beneficial, and kept preventing casualties of important people. Twilight Gap happened not too long after.” He paused, that curious expression returning. “How much has he told you of it?”

It felt like with every question he asked, he tried to find an answer to a question that he didn't want to ask outright. She decided to keep it blunt.

“Fallen using their entire artillery to reach the Traveler and they overtook the fort. Then you told him to die where he stands.”

Saladin frowned at that. “What he probably _didn’t_ tell you was that there was a chain of command and I was the Commander. We may have won the war, but breaking the chain of command normally leads to... complications. It results in situations that weren't dire just because of luck. As Titans, we don't rely on luck.”

He stopped to think of a way on how to exactly phrase the rest. “After witnessing thousands of Guardians die their final deaths, all of us were worn down. Barely able to hold a gun as it was. A strategic retreat to plan and recover was the best option, and I gave the order. Whether Shaxx broke down from all the stress, or if it was something else that prompted him to lead the counterattack with those frames, I do not know.“

“Do you blame him?”

Saladin sighed, but she needed to know the truth. He opted to deflect the question. “Whether intentional or not, whether it's because of trauma or not, when you break the chain of command, you send a message out to the rest: that you are _free to rebel_ , that the chain is meaningless. You _can’t_ have that in a war, in the Titan order.” Saladin told, looking down to the desk as he picked his words rather carefully. It’s been a long time since he had properly reflected on it.

Tirion to some extent was the same way as Shaxx, she focused on the lives saved instead of the politics. Both were equally important. Though her whole Guardian life she had lived as a _wrench_ , obeying all orders. If she would have disobeyed and fled then who knows how many Guardians might have realized that they are not _obligated_ to fight the Darkness. Alternative was letting the world burn, but there was no obligation. No one would put you in jail for it.

She truly wondered how many Guardians didn’t know that they didn’t _need_ to heed the Tower and their requests. The _Here Is A Gun And Good Luck_ hypothetical guidebook for newly risen Guardians just leads you to the Tower. Maybe she should write that book and become a _true_ Warlock.

Saladin pulled her back to reality. “The Order... it quickly fell apart due to his actions; people saw it all in a different light, that they actually had a _choice,_ that they could run away from the pack _._ Didn’t take long until other factions heard the news. There were several months of discussions, of Zavala trying to keep it all together. Those who were most loyal, those who fought for a better future, stayed with us. Majority… Majority simply left. Fortunately for us, that remains the most recent battle in defense of The City. If there would had been one more attack, it would have been a _disaster_ with the Order unwoven like that. That's why there is antagonism.“

The Iron Lord shook his head. “Either way, it’s all over now. It’s all long forgotten by most. Shaxx might have different… opinions, with his _games,_ pretending that he’s helping out the war effort, that pitting Guardians against one another trains them for fighting the Darkness. That young wolf's stubbornness could bring the Traveler back to life if properly utilized.”

On that last part, Tirion could agree.

“What if he wouldn’t had disobeyed?” She knew the answer, and asked the question despite seeing Saladin already be finished with the subject.

“Most likely the same thing that would have happened if his extremely reckless plan would have failed. Casualties beyond measure. But who knows, the Fallen might have had retreated and we could have executed a counterattack that wouldn’t had torn apart the Order. All what ifs, all irrelevant now.”

Despite him turning a bit angry, it was nice to hear a different perspective about it. 

Titan stubbornness and their feuds was just another thing to add to the list of things that don’t make sense to her.

“Thank you… for taking your time to tell me this. I should be going, I have Sepiks to take care of now.” He nodded at that, before his eyes drifted off, being hesitant to return to his reading material. Tirion stood up from the wooden chair as she had a meeting with her fireteam in The Tower she was late for, Sepiks Prime still remained a very real issue. She had settled on taking Haya and Alva with her. They seemed to be best for the task, but she wasn’t sure if the poor Exo warlock she leaves behind will be able to keep the peace.

As long as they are kept away from the food district, everything _should_ be fine. Things have been getting better between them, they have been developing a _sense_ of maturity. She could swear that she once saw Kouhei look at a Human without disdain in his eyes.

Tirion was proud of them for growing up, things were looking up. 

Everything will be fine. Adventures of the Plaguelands felt like a vacation after Oryx.

“I've read the reports and seen how you are. Someone like _you_ would be good for him, to balance him out before he runs out of arenas to conquer for his game, and before he loses another horn.” Saladin said, taking her off guard, and he could see it. “He also wouldn’t have told that story to you if he didn’t hold you in high... _regard_.”

It almost sounded as if he wanted to use different words than that, but it got the point across.

With that, he found the bookmark where he left off in the book and returned to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bungie, I'd pay you dirty amounts of money for a book about Zavala, Shaxx, and Saladin before the Twilight Gap being this unholy triumvirate of Titan ass kicking.
> 
> And for the other things... SOON. Ask me.
> 
> It's coming. 
> 
> And it'll be worth the wait.
> 
> Though honestly, even though ROI was short, the part where you discover the SIVAfied Lords stuck with me.
> 
> Also fangirling about Ikora. Who wouldn't?! 
> 
> I don't mind the "young wolf" title, though. I just imagine the (canon lore) Zav/Salad/Shaxx dinner attempt and Shaxx punching a table when Saladin calls him that to start a conversation and I laugh at it.
> 
> Either way, thank you for all the comments! They make me happy every time I get a pop up about it. <3 As said, it's the first fic I have written.


	18. Living In A City Sorrow Built

“Your protégé is a bit of a jerk and can’t respect his elders.”

If Cayde could, he’d scowl.

“You got to work with an Iron Lord and all you have to say are things I already know?” Cayde asked as she sat down on the bar stool. That was because Tirion had nothing _to_ tell outside of what she covered in the reports. Even though the SIVA replication chamber was shut down and Sepiks defeated, some work still remained in the Plaguelands. “Why did we even send you there?”

Something about some Fallen wanting to become gods. Tirion started to question why her job has become either killing gods or preventing people from becoming gods. Though, it wasn’t a bad reputation to leave behind.

She also got access to the spot where she wanted her house with the help of Tyra. It was also nice to meet a cryptarch that wasn’t flat-out condescending.

“So, what makes you join me in this place of ignoring the world and not doing meaningful things, Tirion?”

Honestly, she didn’t know. She just needed a drink and a bit of _silence._ “Ran out of meaningful things to do for a moment. Shiro called me a _wrench_ and I need strength to not yell at him to respect his elders.” There was humor behind her words, but Shiro isn’t someone she’s in a hurry to work with again.

Tirion poured a drink for herself. The evaluator disapproved of her drinking as it could make her _condition_ worse. Tirion found a loophole that made sense to her.

_Technically_ there is no alcohol in The Tower.

So _technically_ she wasn’t even drinking.

The Evaluator won’t be able to prove that she drank.

She was making all Warlocks fighting everywhere in the System immensely proud with that use of her brain. It made sense to her so she went with it.

Cayde - for once - saw no need to stall or to relax. There was an issue In the Tower that she kept on ignoring, whether she was doing it on purpose or not. Tirion hadn’t been around the Tower much to notice what was going on, though. She pops in now and then to regroup with her team, but doesn’t stay for long enough to chat. Always something that needs to be fed a bullet.

“So, hey, at what point are you going to talk to Shaxx and tell him to calm down about Saladin working with us? He yelled a _lot_ less when you were constantly around… it… has become kinda’ terrifying”

She was familiar with Shaxx’ temper and dislike for the Iron Lord, but it never went beyond an angry comment. “Why? What happened?”

“Well he finished his sword project. That was fun, him giving out _swords_ to Guardians who can barely shoot. Great idea! He also punched a new drill into the Crucible, and started to yell a lot more. Something or another about honor and crests, wasn’t paying attention by any means.”

“It doesn’t sound _that_ bad.”

“He got bored of it quickly. He’s now planning to do something with vehicles, Pikes and Cabal _tanks_. I have _no_ idea where he is getting the vehicles from, and I’m afraid to ask because I don’t want to have my head crushed by said Cabal tank. My head is _valuable_. So is yours, but I know that he won’t crush it.”

She never thought that she would hear of something that sounded _excessive_ for Shaxx, or something that out of character for Cayde. She hasn’t been away from the Tower for _that_ long, has she?

“You sound almost _terrified._ What happened to you?”

“I don’t know if he’s going to let the Guardians drive the vehicles and shoot each other, or yell at the vehicles until they become sentient and start shootin’ at the Guardians, which would be amusing to watch, actually.” Cayde was about to take a swig of his green drink. “We can’t have the latter, just to be clear. It sounds _hilarious_ but we _can’t_ have it. People will start dyin’ and then it’ll be _my_ problem.”

It took a good while for her to process the words that he just said.

She decided that finishing her drink was the first step. Tirion cringed at the burning feeling in her throat, but it helped with nothing. She couldn’t leave it in the glass and let it be a waste. She was paying for her drinks, but Cayde didn’t drink that brand. Leaving drinks out to waste was not anything Cayde was a fan of.

“I’ll talk to him. But why am _I_ the person to calm him down?”

“Because you’re the only one he listens to, if you catch my drift.” Cayde stopped himself for a moment. “Actually it’s because you’re the only one _willing_ to talk to him. Ikora doesn’t care, Zavala is too angry. Others don’t dare due to fear of a fist in face. Or a, uh, Cabal shield falling on them. Can you also talk to him about those decorations?”

She jumped down from the barstool without a word. Saladin did mention something about her balancing him out.

It was quite the labyrinth to get to the Plaza from the bar. She _still_ can’t understand how she accidentally stumbled upon it.

Shaxx should be getting off work right about now. It felt like there were _far_ too many unresolved feelings between them to have a proper discussion about this, though. By the looks of it, the two of them had silently settled on ignoring what happened after Oryx.

Maybe for the best, as Tirion entered the Hall just in time to see a book fly across the room, missing the red Crucible banner by inches and crashing against a red wall, before sliding down the wall to finally rest on the cold ground.

Even Arcite sighed at the sight. Maybe it was his way of saying _“I am not a maintenance Frame.”_

“Alright then.” Tirion said, briefly catching his attention before he angrily leaned against his desk with his hands, clutching the desk as if the life of all Guardians depended on it.

“You alright there?” She asked, approaching him carefully. She didn’t think he would hurt her or anything, at least not _intentionally_ , but it was better to be safe than sorry.

He grunted. “Over a century’s worth of work and I haven’t solved the problem I sought out to fix... SIVA is a threat we needed to be _prepared_ for. We are _not_ prepared, Saladin brought this down on us last minute.”

She had never heard him be this angry, this _frustrated._ Even when a Guardian was failing as if they’re getting paid for it in the Crucible, Shaxx was begrudgingly encouraging, never stooping down to a blind rage.

Everything seemed to get thrown out of the window now, just like that book.

“And then, there is _this_.” He spat, as he pointed at the blue datapad he was glaring at before sliding it over to Tirion. It was a message, yet another proposition from some weapon’s dealer to set up a meeting attempt with the goal to bribe him into fixing matches. The offers were very generous, or rather, desperate. “The Crucible is there to prepare Guardians for battle, it’s not a meaningless _game._ It’s not something you can _monetize_.”

She counted to twenty in her head before attempting to speak, in case he had more to say that she didn’t want to interrupt. Interrupting a Titan in the middle of a rant has never been proven to be a smart idea. Tirion once tried _punching_ a Titan mid rant and ended up with most of her bones broken.

It was one of the _few_ lessons she has learned.

Shaxx has been putting _all_ that responsibility on himself alone, the responsibility of making sure the City is prepared because the Vanguard won’t do a thing. He has seen talent be forged in the Crucible and then be taken away by the Darkness because _nobody_ was prepared.

He pushed himself off of the desk, sighing angrily. “What will happen once the Ghosts stop going out? Guardians aren’t _truly_ immortal. We can’t afford to burn through them but we keep burning through them because _they are not ready_.”

He finally finished, as he let the silence consume the room.

Shaxx has been dealing with this for the past century, Oryx and then Saladin on top of it _finally_ tipped it over. No matter what he did, the City was unable to catch up with the threats thrown at it. The enemy was watching them, knowing exactly how strong the forces of the City are, and not attacking until they’re confident.

The City always prevailed, but they could have done better. They _should_ have done better. They should have been stronger.

Saladin was the last straw, because he’s has known about SIVA all these years, _decades_ , _centuries,_ but only decided to let the Vanguard know about it when SIVA was on the verge of getting out of control. Just when Shaxx was about to forgive and forget, his former mentor proves that he can’t be trusted.

They could have prevented this long ago. What if it would have sprung in the middle of them fighting Oryx? Everything seemed to rely on pure, _dumb_ luck. Everything from SIVA missing Oryx just by a _week_ and Tirion getting revived at the right time because her Ghost took too long to find her.

Shaxx wondered how many other threats like SIVA are dormant around the system, ready to be awakened. Ready to catch them when they’re taking a much needed breath. They won’t survive if they can’t take a breath, either.

Tirion knew that he won’t admit defeat, won’t ever surrender. No matter what she said. It was both endearing and annoying. That he will fight against it until there is nothing left to fight. Until mountains become flat roads.

Kind of like her, but he did it _willingly_ , because of passion, because of past tragedies. She required orders, lacked that fire in her to willingly save the world. Lacked witnessing a massacre.

After finishing counting in her head, she turned around and walked over to the neglected book in the corner and picked it up from the ground. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t too damaged. Slightly damaged spine, light scratches here and there and bent corners. There was a dent in the plaster of the wall, though.

Could have been worse. He could have thrown a Cabal shield, or a _sword_. Or Cayde.

She walked back to him and put the book down neatly on the desk, fixing the bent corners before letting it go. “Please tell me how suddenly losing it like this helps.”

“It _doesn’t_.” He grumbled out. “It bloody _doesn’t._ ”

Tirion tried to catch his gaze, but she never knew with the helmet. “Are you okay?”

“I am through with dealing with inadequacy surrounding this.”

It was like trying to claw a hole through Saint-14’s helmet with _pillows_ for fingers. She wasn’t going to let it deter her. “I asked if _you_ are okay. Not the Crucible.”

She remembered what Saladin told her, about all the deaths Shaxx had witnessed, all the hopelessness. It wasn’t that much better up here in the Tower. Up in the Tower he held less power, he couldn’t lead a counterattack this time, couldn’t find the outlet. There wasn’t anything physical he _could_ counterattack besides drowning himself in work.

“I’m tired.” He finally whispered, turning his head to truly look at her. “Can’t stand the hauntings…”

Tirion reached out to put a hand on his pauldron, it was hard to comfort him through the _literal_ armor. Hard to find things to say, especially in a public area. He responded by putting his own hand on her arm.

The problem with only having two emotions, careful fear and dead devotion. Or rather, being whittled down by life to _only_ feel fear and devotion. Every mistake he does is scrutinized, and mostly by him. To the point where he has been questioning that devotion to the Crucible and the cause around it.

It was far too much to deal with in one night, and there was still Aksis to kill.

She noticed that her Ghost was out, floating around by the bookshelf as they talked. Lot of the times he’s in hibernation. Not that she minds having him, it’s just _privacy_. Ghost returned to her side once the argument had settled down for a whole minute. Only ones in the Hall were her, Shaxx and Arcite. The rest had cleared out.

Though it felt as if there was _something_ watching them both. The same feeling a Guardian feels when they have cleared out all Fallen in some basement in the Cosmodrome, only to be ambushed by a Dreg that had managed to hide in the shadows.

Shaxx eyed her little fidgety companion, frowning inside of the helmet.

“Are those…” He reached up to touch the Ghost, turning him slightly. “… _bite_ marks on your Ghost? You shouldn’t be so reckless with it, Tirion.”

Took her a minute to realize why his tone had changed from furious to _worried._ If Tirion was going to be honest, she _might_ have forgotten that a Ghost is a valuable thing that should be treated with _care_ , not a traveling companion with a library of snide remarks and sometimes impersonations of others.

“Battle scars.” She said, the lie was _technically_ true. “We fought a great foe.”

“What happened? Splicers?”

“It’s complicated. Don’t worry about it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily."

There was no good way to explain it, so she decided to look down at her feet.

“It was her thinking that petting a wolf pup next to the mother is a good idea.” Her Ghost intercepted, and her head snapped up. Guess she deserved _some_ passive aggressive resurrection habits.

“Oh come on! I…” Tirion tried and floundered. It just seemed so _trivial_. “I have nothing.” She shrugged, sensing the disapproval regarding shenanigans from Shaxx. “The pup licked my hand. A _vicious_ beast! Then the mother started playing with Ghost.”

He smiled inside of his helmet at the image.

“I _should_ be surprised. I really, _really_ should.” He sighed. “Thank you for listening, Tirion.”

She didn’t want to leave him there, she knew it was a mistake. But, duty called. SIVA called. The world called. He’ll be fine, she hoped.

“I have to go… The misfits and I have one final assault to plan.” She smiled sadly, before turning around, not quite knowing what to say anymore. “I’m _very_ late for that meeting.”

“Catch you later.”

The hall was now empty, except for a small presence that remained, sneaking about. Hesitant. This particular thing was _far_ louder and more obnoxious than Tirion’s Hunter. This was the reason why Alva’s sneaking tech not being figured out was a _priority_ in the Tower. As promised, he hadn’t had any issues with Alva sneaking around since the initial attempt, though he still didn’t trust her with his Ghost for communication purposes.

“ _Alright_.” Shaxx gave in. “What are you doing, you sly bastard? Don’t think that I can’t see you.”

The hunter finally came out of hiding, the cloak wearing off with a crackling noise as the Exo stomped up to Shaxx.

“You’ve _won_.” Cayde said. “Alright? Bets are _off._ No debts. It’s been killin’ me! Is this what you want? Some kinda’ twisted mental torture?”

“Good.” Shaxx couldn’t help the perfect response, having no clue what Cayde was talking about and not even caring.

“You know how much I hate not talking about a thing? Especially something that big? Especially with Zavala and Ikora in the room? Especially when there are _endless_ amounts of bets that could be made?! Gah! You--- _YOU_!”

The Titan took notice that the Hunter waited until _everyone_ was gone to talk. He never does that. Usually Cayde is the _first_ to leave, _never_ the one to linger around. He wasn’t even the greatest at the art of subterfuge. Whenever Cayde bugs him, it’s usually in the middle of the day.

Him trying _this_ much only meant bad things.

But, it all had to come out, for the Exo’s sanity, however artificial it could be in the end.

The pieces suddenly clicked in Shaxx’ head. This was going to cause problems. _Major_ problems. He didn’t need this on top of it all. Especially not on top of tonight.

“Pretend that I don’t know what you’re rambling about.” Shaxx said slowly, instead. Just to make sure.

”I’m a _Hunter_ , in case you didn’t realize that Titans don’t rule the world. Besides the display that I just witnessed, I possibly know what I interrupted between you two after Oryx was killed.” Shaxx felt slight relief over that it was confined to Cayde’s head, and not someone actively spreading rumors. It could turn to it, though.

It could also turn to something possibly worse.

Shaxx steeled himself. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. He felt disgusted at having it with _Cayde,_ of all people. It would be easier to just punch him, or ignore it. But it would lead to more whining on Cayde’s end.

Maybe lock him up in Bannerfall with one of the Frames.

“You didn’t—and what is it to _you_?” Though it didn’t work as Shaxx couldn’t control the jumble of words. He _hated_ this. He closed his eyes to think, and tried again. “My private life is _none_ of your business.”

“Y’know… Shaxx…” Cayde threw his arms up in the air “People possibly _dying_ by Cabal _tanks_ because of your private bedroom life is _my_ business!”

“They’re not _tanks_ , they’re _Interceptors._ You wouldn’t know. They’re practically _harmless_.” Shaxx corrected, before continuing. “Introducing new modes, arenas and obstacles into the Crucible and keeping Guardians on their toes is beneficial for _survival._ That’s how it is, and how it _always_ will be in the Crucible. It is completely unrelated to me having feelings for her.”

He stopped himself in his chiding rant, swiftly realizing what he just admitted to as Cayde gasped just loud enough for him to hear.

Shaxx had messed up.

It has been a _very_ long day, as the dent in the wall on the other side of the room can easily indicate.

He was ready to get his Redjacks for Cayde’s forced retirement to Bannerfall.

“ _Don’t_. I swear to the Traveler, Cayde, if you--” Shaxx took an angry step towards the Hunter, causing the Exo step back a couple of steps.

“You-- _Why_ did you have to make it _worse_? _”_ Cayde exclaimed, interrupting him.

Cayde realized that he will have to ban Tirion from his bar until the situation gets resolved because he _will_ open his big mouth about this. The hunter just _had_ to become friends with her, just _had_ to start seeing her as a person. But that wasn’t _the_ problem. That was just a pretend-problem. The actual problem was bigger than SIVA, at least to Cayde. “Why did you _all of a sudden_ have to become an actual person?!”

“I seem to recall you telling me that I should try to be more _welcoming_.”

“Well, now I _deeply_ regret bringing it up! _How_ did all of this happen?”

Cayde wondered if he still could make a bet about how long it’ll take for Shaxx to confess to her just to cope with it.

“Absolutely none of your business how it happened. Now, get out before my Redjacks get here.”

If the news would break out, it would cause _so_ much talk around the parts. People might actually start to believe that Shaxx was actually a _person_ capable of _feelings_ , instead of a full body armor with nothing but _pure fury_ in it. And possibly a Fallen Walker. Up until now Cayde didn’t know that the Titan was even capable of feelings other than anger, dismissal, homicidal intents, hate, and an obsession with making every _inch_ of the Solar System into a sports arena. Cayde was convinced that if the opportunity arose to make the Last City into a Crucible arena, Shaxx would damn well do it.

Hell, the Tower even. Only reason the Tower isn’t an arena is because there is literally _no room._ So, Shaxx took another Tower, Bannerfall.

The confirmation alone that Shaxx was capable of feeling any sort of _warm_ emotion towards _anything_ was quite much for Cayde to handle. To the point that if Eris would walk up to him, take of her blindfolds to reveal that her green eyes are just smoke and mirrors and she actually isn’t blind wouldn’t surprise him. He would just nod and return to work, unphased.

The two of them had resorted to glaring at eachother. The Hunter with disbelief, the Titan with pure _fury._

Shaxx _truly_ loathed the fact that out of _all_ people in The Tower, _Cayde_ was the first one to find out.

Life managed to end up in some complete dark and twisted circle in the Hall. Or a spiral that collides now and then, or what it even was Cayde said all those months ago.

For the past couple of weeks, Shaxx has been hard at work trying to forget what had happened after Oryx was killed. It was inappropriate in the first place. He tried to lose those feelings, _many_ times succeeding. But, he was fooling himself as it all always came back every time he saw her, without fail.

It was all just alluded to _fear._ A concept, despite dealing with it on a daily basis, he was unfamiliar with.

Fear of letting someone in because he knows that they’ll be dead soon.

Shaxx has seen _thousands_ of Guardians, both newly resurrected and legends come and go through the hall. Very few of them return. He has made it a habit to not get attached, busy schedule aside. More Guardians have died since the Twilight Gap than during the Twilight Gap. Even _one_ Guardian permanently dying since then was too much.

Even the greatest warriors of the Crucible were diminished to a dead Ghost and a gun or a piece of armor they leave behind, for collectors to find and for some to replicate and sell. Their story remained, but it became riddled with _what ifs._

Where would Saint-14 be if he hadn’t taken a wrong turn in his adventures?

Where would Thalor be, if he hadn’t been murdered by someone obsessed with the Darkness?

Though, to this day Shaxx considers the demise of Thalor and Pahanin to be completely his fault, for recklessly letting Dredgen Yor to compete in Crucible in the first place. At least now people are screened before they enter. It shouldn’t had taken a tragedy like that to make Shaxx realize that he shouldn’t be letting in just _anyone_ into the Crucible.

There were many stories like that. Far too many.

Either way, he _needed_ a word for it, he won’t be able to tell her how he feels until he finds a word for it. He needed a word for what made him so _afraid_ of losing her. Shaxx needed a word for what allowed him to let Tirion in past the barrier he had built up over the _years._ That insistent Warlock was one of the _few_ good things that have happened in his life. A beautiful thing to find amongst war, and the closest thing he has seen to someone being damn near _invincible_ after Thalor and other legends that have crossed paths with the Crucible.

Maybe the Crucible was _itself_ at fault here, as Tirion might be the only one out of the heroes to not have a good reputation around the Crucible. She was good, but still not anything to brag about.

Maybe she just had a chance at life because she wasn’t tainted by it.

He just didn’t know. He had a lot to think about.

_“Fine_.” Shaxx grumbled, after some intense silence, ending the glare battle. Best he could do until further notice is to volunteer for some kind of twisted blackmail to keep the Exo distracted for a while until he forgets about it, as getting Cayde locked up in Bannerfall might mean that Zavala will have to talk face-to-face to Shaxx.

He withdrew the Redjacks because of that alone.

“Come up with your most ridiculous bet to… _cope_ with this.” Didn’t stop the statement coming out through clenched teeth. “Just don’t open your mouth for the whole Tower to hear about it.”

“Oh man.” Cayde breathed a sigh of relief. “Only now did I realize how much I hate the sound of _Cayde-7_. Y’know, six is a nice number, very complimenting to the name.”

“Make the damn bet or you’ll _become_ Cayde-7.”

“Alright, alright! _The_ Golden Guns bet. You’ve postponed it long enough.” Shaxx scoffed at that. That’s the best he could come up with when given a golden opportunity? But that’s probably why Cayde did it.

It wasn’t even a challenge. It never _was_ a challenge, hence why it got postponed repeatedly. Wasn’t worth his time. But now there was an impasse. “I _can_ outrun them and I will.”

“You’re on! Hope you ready to lose because, oh boy, do I have an adventure for you for all of this! I’ll send you the date and place tomorrow.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Cayde…”

“Oh, it _very_ much does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was done with angst and then I fell into a Destiny lore downward spiral...  
> I also slipped in a The National easter egg because I've been kind of listening to them on loop again.
> 
> Also, if you haven't read these two Grimoire entries, you're seriously missing out on some of the most hilarious things canon to the game lore. Also it'll be relevant in a future chapter. Also, it's freaking hilarious.
> 
> http://www.ishtar-collective.net/cards/ghost-fragment-lord-shaxx#cayde-6  
> http://www.ishtar-collective.net/cards/ghost-fragment-lord-shaxx-2#cayde-6
> 
> I sort of warped lore a bit here myself. The idea of Shaxx making those Legendary swords, realizing that Saladin has been giving out Young Wolf's Howls to Guardians, and then creating the Exotic Hive Swords that are MUCH better than Young Wolf's Howl just for the sake of being passive aggressive was too fun to ignore.


	19. I Don't Want To Go To Sleep Either

Tirion flattened the sheet of paper on the table, then summoned her Ghost to draw up a map of the area. Only Tirion, Lorcan and Haya were present as the remaining three were taking care of some troubles on the moon, Tirion had no desire to know what was happening up there anymore. Furthermore, it involved working with Shiro, two birds one stone.

“Alright. Who wants to start? Lorc?”

The hunter had his own Ghost add to the hologram. “Well. It’s pretty straightforward. We deducted that the pylon things can be used to open the red… _door_ …” He chuckled, doing his best to not use the _creative_ nickname they had for it. “We go in the wall, walk on the wall, and then eventually find our way to the server farm. I couldn’t get my drone in there so that’s a surprise.”

“Why go _in_ the wall? Can’t we _climb_ the wall?” Haya asked, as Lorc’s eyes widened for a second before he raised his hands, about to thank her for the idea.

“You can’t climb _any_ walls.” Tirion quickly shut it down.

“Well I and Alva can, not sure about the rest of you.” Lorc joked. “You did die six times when we were jumping on the platforms on the Dreadnaught, Tirion.”

“That’s because you pushed me off.” Tirion said. “Any further ides?”

“There is a siege engine of _sorts_ on top of the wall…” Lorc said and Tirion steeled herself. “It needs to be repaired. Can be used to knock down some walls.”

“We are not climbing nor knocking down _the_ wall.” She said.

“I said _some_ walls. What happened to your sense of humor, Tirion?”

Haya sighed. “Then what am _I_ supposed to do if we have something else to knock down walls?”

“Manage to create some kind of synergy between you, the siege engine and some hammers so that the siege engine shoots flaming hammers?” Lorc suggested while snickering, looking over to Tirion to see her reaction. At this point he was just making up nonsensical scenarios to get a reaction out of her.

“That is the _worst_ idea!”

“We could take the siege engine for ourselves.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Allright then, do _you_ have any ideas?”

Tirion is not going to lie to herself and pretend that she has been the most accepting of other people’s ideas, but there were lines. “We open up the… door, - _Stop chuckling!_ \-  kill Vosiks, and use the siege engine to knock down the walls, then make our way into the server rooms. But…” She clenched her jaw when he saw the look of anticipation on both Lorcan’s and Haya’s eyes.

Like children being promised a new toy.

She couldn’t bring herself to say no to that. She knew better, but she couldn’t say no. Part of her will never grow up.

“ _But_ if once we’re done with Aksis the siege engine is salvageable… then _maybe._ Nothing that might kill people or put the City at risk, though.”

“I could make it fly!” Lorcan said.

Tirion was _immediately_ regretting the decision. “I don’t want to know what you’ll do with it but if the Cabal attack us, I’m going to blame you.”

The Hunter could live with that. “Deal! By the time we reach the server room I should be able to get my little friend in there.”

It was settled, all that remained was getting the news to the other three and then leaving by morning. It was middle of the night, all the adventures had warped their sleep schedule.

There wasn’t _anything_ to do in the Tower in the middle of the night. Well, there were _some_ things.

“Do you think we should leave something to do for the other Guardians?” Haya asked.

“They can have the moon.”

Tirion _still_ wanted to blow up the moon. There was no reason for it to be up there anymore. Give or take a year or two and it will be completely consumed by Hive, and its original concept completely lost to time. Tirion just needed Cayde, a couple of Titans and a weekend. She hasn’t returned to the moon since the incident of the stealth cloak malfunctioning.

She could still face the Hive without much problem, but she _refused_ to go back to the moon.

In that moment of downtime, it would also be _so easy_ to stand up and walk over to another apartment and knock on a special door. There was going to be time to breathe again after Aksis has been neutralized.

Tirion missed him, she missed their friendship, and she missed their long talks. Her being _involved_ with Shaxx was a _horrible_ idea, the _worst._ Worse than the siege engine hell-fusion idea. But, she _wanted_ it. Tirion still remembered that special feeling before Cayde interrupted them. It felt like the only _normal_ thing in this ridiculous world.

How he has been there for her, how she’s the only one who he seems to show that _human_ side of him to. That low laugh, the way he was the only one who seemed to understand what she was going through, with all the horrors she has witnessed. Him actually having a soft side and constantly calling Arcite his _“little buddy”_ endearingly. Tirion noticed those things.

The brutal honesty. The determination to _win_ when challenged to anything combat-related no matter how implausible the challenge was. The complete inability to admit defeat, which made it fun to mess with him. Him being the only one who can bring a genuine smile and a laugh out of her.

That special way of showing that he _cares_ by _doing_ something instead of trying to articulate it with words, like _throwing_ her a blanket or forcing her to run the Sparks.

Perhaps she was just fooling herself with the last part. But Tirion _wanted_ more. Having no idea on how to break the ice was another problem. She would bring it up to her fireteam, but she knew at least one of them would suggest giving him a replica of a sniper rifle with a specific name. Which to be honest, Tirion was salty over not being able to acquire yet.

Tirion heard Lorc laugh, making her snap to attention.

“Hey Tirion.” He started in a sing-song voice. “Do you remember that one time where we were doing something or another for Eris before the whole Crota mess, and you got that one Fusion Rifle?” Lorcan started.

Murmur. A rifle she has since destroyed because of too many bad memories.

“Huh? Where are you going with this?”

“The way you are looking at that coffee table reminds me of the way you looked at that rifle when you showed it to us, all in _love_ and all. You _can’t_ have it.”

“…What?” Tirion stammered and floundered at the statement. She was only half listening to what he was actually saying.

“You can’t have the damn coffee table is what I’m saying! I paid good Glimmer for it. _My_ Glimmer, _my_ table.”

Even after _all_ of that, Tirion didn’t pick it up. “Why would I want the…”

Tirion didn’t even realize that she was looking at the damn table when she was getting lost in her thoughts. Lorcan and Haya looked at each other for a split second before returning to her, apparently having schemed some evil plan as Haya quickly caught on to what Lorc was saying.

“I’m willing to let go of the siege engine thing to find out _who_ it is!” Haya said, prompting Tirion to roll her eyes. They were acting like teenagers.

“ _No_. Grow up. None of your business.” Tirion realized that her chances of sneaking out to visit Shaxx before they would have to leave for the assault were now _nonexistent_ , as the misfits would follow her to him to satisfy their curiosity. She couldn’t risk the whole Tower knowing about it. Tirion groaned. “ _Fine._ I know how you goofheads work. I don’t want a stalking party. Make me an offer.”

“My best engrams will go to you for the next _month_.”

Tirion shrugged at Lorc’s offer. “Rahool will end up screwing me over. _Why_ are you two so interested in this?”

“Because we’re bored now and you gave us something to talk about.” Lorcan said.

“100 Legendary Marks, no stalking, and a haircut.” Haya offered, her face more serious than ever.

Why was it _always_ the hair? “That’s just _vaguely_ insulting. And the person in question likes my haircut. What's wrong with my haircut?”

Lorcan raised an eyebrow.

“First of all, _not_ getting a haircut for three years is not a haircut. It’s a call for _help_.” Lorcan added to her pain. “Second, 125 Marks from both me and Haya making it 250 Marks total because I want to find out what kind of insane person likes that mess on your head.”

“You guys just lost the purchase with all this bullying.”

“Great job, Haya.” The Titan rolled her eyes at that.

“I already transferred over the Marks! I’m in this fight to the end, it’s the Titan way. 250 Marks.” Haya was _determined_ to finish the fight, to get _some_ info out of Tirion. It was good enough for now.

“He’s a Titan and we... almost kissed once. That’s all you’ll get.”

Haya was about to flip that stupid table. “What kind of a Titan is that much of an embarrassment to other Titans?!”

“That’s all you get, Haya…” Tirion repeated herself.

Lorcan eyed the Titan “Yes Haya… Because _Titans,_ out of all of us, _Titans_ are the ones that are known for excelling in aesthetically pleasing _anything_ …”

“People wearing glowing cloaks shouldn’t throw rocks at Glasshouses.” Haya almost stuck her tongue out to him.

“Oh, does this mean that you’ll _finally_ learn to be a Defender? Could use that!” Lorc said. “I am not even joking. Relying on Kouhei for defensive things is terrifying. Relying on you, though…”

Tirion was too happy about the subject being moved away from her to be annoyed at the conversation that was now taking place.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re… _you._ ” He said, as If she took his breath away.

It was amusing how they had now forgotten that Tirion was there. She didn’t know if she wanted to grab a snack or to interrupt it.

“Well, of course I am _me._ ”

Tirion snorted silently at Haya’s clueless response, not wanting to interrupt it after all. The spectacle was quite amusing.

“You just don’t get it, Haya. I have fallen for you.”

Lorcan has always been charming. He could sell salt to a snail and convince the snail that the salt is a potion that cures all ailments. It was subtleties; a smirk at the right time, the correct voice pitch. He was a master artist at that.

So with that, Haya’s face turned as red as Tirion’s hair, contrasting against her own neat blonde hair as her mouth fell agape. She tried to hide it, though.

“You… what?” Haya stammered, finally being taken off guard.  

“Haya...” Lorcan smirked, tilting his head. “Haven’t you realized? I _literally_ have Fallen for you. I rounded some of them up the other day and locked ‘em up. Want to kill them? Kouhei called me despicable. I need to get rid of--” Lorc didn’t get to finish the sentence because of a mixture of laughing and trying to avoid projectiles thrown at him.

“This is why you got stabbed, ya dick!” Haya yelled, taking off into a sprint after him.

It was the perfect opportunity to slip away now. It will take a while until the others return, might as well take it. Beats sitting alone in the apartment as Haya goes on an adventure to fling a Hunter off of the Tower, or following them and risking getting scarred.

As Tirion’s knuckle was about to graze the door, she suddenly stopped herself, self-doubt consuming her. It was a very bad and inappropriate idea after all. With a sigh, she let her hand drop back to her side lifelessly.

During the war against Oryx, she was all _alone_. Her friends had left her. So, Tirion clung onto anything that made her feel less alone. That anything ended up being a Titan’s arms. And then, in ended in _this._ It now has turned complicated and weird. She knew that the Titan wouldn’t reciprocate the feelings, he already had too much going on for him.

She was berating others for acting like teenagers without seeing the hypocrisy in it all.

Tirion simply didn’t know whether she should choose what _she_ wanted, or what the world wanted her to want. Maybe it was just all about feeling selfish for taking time to be an actual person, and not be a wrench to be tossed at a broken world to fix it.

The world _always_ needed a wrench. A wrench could never catch a break.

“Looking for me, Hivebane?” And there he was, with the voice that made her jump slightly. Tirion turned around to face him, struggling to see him in the dark despite the shining armor.

“Maybe. The meeting was adjourned.” She said, approaching him so she’d see him better.

There was a contemplative pause before he spoke again.

“Do you want to go for a walk with me?”

There was certain strangeness to the tone of the question, but she decided to not read into it and answer with a nod. It didn’t take long until they quietly reached a secluded balcony on the lower part of the Tower. If Tirion didn’t know better, she’d think this was almost romantic.

Tirion sat down on the railing of the balcony, hugging the lower part of it with her feet so that she wouldn’t fall off backwards to a death.

“Feeling better?” She asked, watching him take off his helmet and then putting it down gently on the ground before joining her side. Shaxx gazed off to the Traveler, as if searching for answers or guidance, but finding none. Much like she does a lot of the times.

“A bit. Yelling about it to someone that listens helped. It’s been a very long week.” With that understatement, he looked over at her. She was almost at eye level with him when sitting on that railing.

“I don’t want you to break. It all worries me. Would be a bad idea if you broke all around. You’re not a Frame, Shaxx. ”

He smiled at that. “Same to you, Tirion.”

“Heh. Don't worry about me. I am the Vanguard’s gun for hire and now I lead a group of guns for hire. I’m just someone very insignificant. World won’t crash and burn if _I_ break. You, on the other hand. You’re pretty much the reason why my team is as good as they are.”

It still baffled Shaxx how she doesn’t know the scope of what she has done, or _does_ , for the City and beyond.

“You’re a lot of things, but certainly not insignificant. Neither to the City nor to me. Don’t discredit yourself, Tirion.” Shaxx saw that smile grow slightly bigger with every word he said. “You killed the _King._ I’ve seen the best, but none of them compare to what you did.”

“Yeah, but it was more of a team effort…”

“You did most of the work, and took initiative. It's honorable.”

“Yeah, but the Vanguard did most of the paperwork and planning.”

Shaxx just shook his head. And she calls _him_ stubborn. “You won’t be proud of your work until you decimate the entire Cabal empire by yourself, won’t you?”

He was joking, but had no doubts that she would be capable of pulling it off, as long as there are no puzzles that require more than one person, and then brush it off as it was nothing.

“That’s a _bit_ overkill. I’ll leave that to the others so they’d have something to do.” Tirion laughed. “I’m sort of proud of the Black Garden thing.” She leaned back slightly to look at the stars, being entranced by them. It was a moonless night for once, the sky offering her peace. She didn't have any bad experiences with any stars up above. Though she wondered if the stars could offer a threat worse than the Hive.

Tirion had a death grip on the railing both with her hands and feet. She was still afraid of death despite being a Guardian. Nevertheless, she still pushed the limits of her balancing abilities when she leaned back like that.

Shaxx scoffed. “ _’Sort of’”_ He muttered the quote out under his breath. Judging by her laugh, she had to be doing it on purpose. “You can’t _sort of_ be proud of saving the Traveler, Tirion.” Shaxx motioned towards it as he spoke. The Traveler stood there buoyed, unmoving. Even though it looked lifeless, its ominous presence was always felt, it obviously still had power and influence. It wasn’t a feeling you could describe.

She returned her gaze to him, with a smirk.

“I am and I will be. What are you going to do about it?”

Shaxx didn’t even mind being slightly annoyed with her.

Tirion looked so beautiful in that moment. There could not be a better moment, there probably _won’t_ be a better moment.

But, there was still a lot to think about regarding that. Shaxx wanted to be _sure._ Though he was running out of time to think, as it won’t take long until one Exo Hunter inevitably opens his big mouth. If she would hear about it from Cayde, Shaxx would _really_ have to lock him up at Bannerfall. Maybe worse. He won’t even mind the conversation with Zavala that will follow. If anything, Zavala would most likely condone it.

A strand of loose red hair fell in front of Tirion's eye as she tilted her head, and Shaxx almost rolled his eyes at the universe.

Maybe it was the Traveler messing with him out of boredom, and lack of strength to do something more significant.

After a long moment, she let go of the railing with one hand to tuck the strand of hair behind her ear, and lost her balance on the railing. The Warlock yelped slightly as she started to fall backwards, but luckily for her a strong arm caught her own and pulled her back swiftly. Now she found herself _literally_ in a Titan’s arms. Despite everything, he couldn’t let her fall.

Shaxx started to question what it _actually_ was he had to think about, what it was that prevented him from doing something he – and apparently, the universe - wanted.

Even trough the armor and the obstacles, holding Tirion in his arms like this felt _right._ A sense of normalcy, even though everything about what he was feeling was so foreign to him. There weren’t exactly that many threats left now to worry about, so he couldn't use that excuse.

She was a lot of things. One of the things was that Tirion held on to a strong refusal to stop being reckless. She has survived this far, but it was still worrying.

Maybe _that_ was just it. Falling off balconies seeking out gods to kill, and feeding her Ghost to wolves wasn’t really reassuring that she’ll survive once things have settled down. Guardians being Guardians get addicted to the feeling of battle, and then continue on to seek bigger and bigger threats. If they can't find any, they'll make a threat. He's seen it.

“Thanks...” She breathed out after taking a moment to collect herself, looking up at him. “My Ghost is being passive-aggressive with me since the wolf incident.”

Shaxx knew better than to question if she was serious or not. Instead, he watched her bite her lip.

Speaking of it, her little companion materialized next to her. With almost painful reluctance, Shaxx let go of her without saying a word.

It _had_ to be some sort of divine intervention, punishing him for taking too long. It was too late now.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something?” Ghost said. She gave him the benefit of the doubt regarding whether he was being smug or not, due to a lack of a mouth to smugly smirk with.

“Yes, you very _much_ are.” She said, bluntly. “Have they murdered each other yet?”

“ _They?_ ” Shaxx asked.

“Out of curiously, how do you disarm a Striker Titan?” Tirion asked. Her only experience with attempts to disarm them ended up badly. Haya only wielded her hammers when she was happy.

“A Shadowshot. Why?”

“It’s better to not ask questions. Where are they, Ghost?”

“I _think_ one of them is tumbling down the stairs, other tumbling the other down the stairs.”

She scowled. “Sorry to cut this short. I have to _kill_ a Titan and a Hunter. Do you think a triple Nova Bomb might do the trick?”

“You’ll... want to get them out in the field first. Difficult to control the triple Nova Bomb in tight spaces. You want a high roof.”

She started backing off. “You didn’t see me, and you didn’t tell me that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ლ(ಠ_ಠლ)


	20. The Dawning

Winter had fully come, and so had The Dawning.

There were piles of fresh snow around The Tower, along with lights and decorations.

A _lot_ of lights.

It was a nice, albeit a _very_ cold, sight to return to. Colder than Felwinter’s Peak due to the altitude. A thing she considered miraculous had happened at the Temple, she discovered Warlock armor with fur inning.

She had never felt so warm in her life.

Tirion's work with Saladin and her team made her miss the first few days of celebrations, the first days of opening gifts and watching the children run around having snowball fights. And some adult Guardians. There were times when a friendly snowball fight ended in an _“accidental”_ Fist of Havoc, or a Nova Bomb. Sometimes a Shadowshot.

The PA announcer has been _very_ busy informing Guardians what is authorized and what isn’t in the Tower.

_Guardians._ Constantly ruining things.

What started off as a relatively simple mission to kill Aksis, ended up in an adventure to craft several weapons and neutralize more Splicer threats that took longer than it should have. All of it prompted by Lorc accidentally destroying the first weapon she ever found as a Guardian. She had kept the old Russian rifle as a memento, and took it out of her vault for a _sole_ second. Didn’t take long until the Hunter mistook it for junk and scrapped it.

Tirion was having a hard time being mad at Kouhei because of that.

But, a lot of it finally felt like _closure._ Like a final adventure, her legend was now finished. Now, it was time to just enjoy life. Whatever that even meant. Maybe she should start training new Guardians. Maybe retire to her house.

The concept of having free time was _very_ confusing. There were rumors of Omnigul’s return but she decided to reject that reality. Wasn’t her job. The idea of it was just absolutely absurd.

There were a couple of satchels waiting for Tirion at the Postmaster. One of them was especially heavy, filled with all sorts of trinkets, engrams, and a surprisingly drinkable looking brown liquid in a bottle.

The alcohol laws were lifted _slightly_ for the celebration. She wasn’t going to drink it alone, and everyone was strictly _ordered_ to have a day off tomorrow, as they refused to take days off willingly. There were still going to be skeleton crews and some Frames to keep an eye on things and the wall in the case of an attack, which was quite unlikely.

Drinking it with her misfits was _never_ an option. Only half the bottle would be used for drinking, the other half would be used for the potential of combining it with electricity and fire from their own fingertips. And what remained would be used to make more drinks, causing the cycle to continue.

Having a Ghost didn’t help with the hangovers.

_Nothing_ helped with the hangovers.

If anything, Ghosts made them worse.

When the inevitable hour of judgment is upon them all, when they have to face the Traveler and explain how they have misused the gifts it gave them, there will be quite the story to tell.

It will probably end with incineration, but it will be a great story.

Tirion saw that smirk on his face when he saw her after opening the door.

“I’ve brought gifts.” She lifted up the bottle for emphasis.

“It’s good to see you.” Shaxx let her walk into his warm apartment, watching her shake out some of the snow in her hair. “What have you got?”

“I don’t know, not sure if I should trust the label since it’s from Rahool. Could be anything once we open this bottle.”

Neither of them really knew what to do in that moment. It’s been nearly two months and they still haven’t talked about what happened after she killed Oryx. They’ve had their usual, albeit brief, conversations, but managed to steer clear of that particular subject.

At least _verbally_.

Now they were back in a similar position as they were on that night after Oryx.

She leaned against the couch, not sure where to even begin. She didn’t want to bring up SIVA, or any of that business. That conversation didn’t belong in that place. It was no place for social pretenses.

“I wanted to visit you earlier during the day, but according to the word around The Tower you had went on some adventure with Cayde?” Shaxx’s instant reaction to groan and rub the bridge of his nose as a response to her question made her laugh.

“It’s a… long story.” That just made her more curious, and he knew it. “There is absolutely _nothing_ to tell.”

“It’s a story I have to hear, evidently!”

Well, she was going to hear it from someone eventually. Tirion had her ways, and Cayde’s version of it might hold absolutely no basis in this _reality_ , let alone this universe. She followed him as he walked over to the kitchen area, making sure to grab the bottle.

After a bit of inner debate, he begun. “There was a _bet_ , for the lack of a better term. I was confident that I could outrun his Golden Guns...” Shaxx told, almost through clenched teeth. He saw her put the bottle on the table, it was the same brand they drank a long time ago.

“I’ll never understand why Titans insist on out-running people.” She said as he grabbed the glasses.

For a class that could summon protective bubbles and wore the heaviest armor, resorting to _running_ away never made sense to Tirion.

“It works if you execute it correctly.” Tirion responded to his statement with a low _mhhmhh_ “But that’s just the beginning, I _lost_.” He almost winced with the confession.

She feigned a gasp. “ _You_ admitting _defeat_? Think of the children!” That statement was more accurate than she knew and it showed on his face. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It was a _tactical error_.” Shaxx quickly corrected. “I also had already piled up a debt from… previous debts and _arrangements_ with the insufferable bastard.” He put emphasis on the last part of that sentence. “He forced me to socialize, with _children._ And that’s that. Hand me the bottle.”

Tirion wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be shocked at that punishment Cayde picked. Shaxx scowled at the turmoil on her face. “Don’t say _anything_ , Tirion.”

She shook her head, having a hard time trying to figure out how it could get any worse for the poor, _poor_ Titan. Trying to stop herself from making a snarky comment was harder than fighting Oryx.

Though, this was _Shaxx_ she was talking about, she felt a twinge of panic settle in and her smile fell slightly.

“ _Please_ tell me you didn’t hurt the children’s feelings, Shaxx.”

“Only their honor. They benefited from it.”

Tirion raised her eyebrows at that. “Really, Shaxx? _What_ did you do?”

He sighed, knowing that she won’t stop asking questions. “Cayde made me train them, in this odd activity they were playing that involved hitting each other with a ball. Never quite understood it.”

“…Dodge ball?” Tirion couldn’t hold the chuckle in when she said that. He also found it strange how everyone knew what the game was called except for him. “So, you went full _Crucible_ with training them?”

“Found two of them that looked decent. An awoken girl and a human boy; they looked more capable than the rest of the dregs, but still in need of training.” That smile on her face was a slight jab at his confidence in telling the story.

“Did they prevail?”

“The opposing team showed them no mercy on the field.” She froze at that, staring at him in disbelief for a second. She made a mental note to arrange a visit to The City later to check up on them and fix the possible emotional damage caused by him.

She sighed, palming her face. “ _Please_ tell me you didn’t tell them that they got annihilated straight out…”

“I did. Why shouldn’t I have?”

“They’re… they’re _kids_ , Shaxx.”

“They needed to be aware of it in order to come back stronger. One of them thought that he won in a way just because the winning team’s makeshift ‘ _trophy’_ broke. That’s not how it works.”

“Did you tell them that their Light was not enough and that victory is a matter of persistence?”

He rolled his eyes slightly. Tirion was trying _desperately_ to not lose it in laughter.

“ _You_ are completely _impossible._ ”

She succumbed to the laughing. “I can just imagine you…” It was getting difficult to talk and try to breathe at the same time. “I’m _sorry_ …” The Warlock wiped a tear from her eye, being forced to grip the edge of the table to be able to stand. “I just can’t deal with the sight of you doing your Crucible spiel to confused children not even the quarter size of you.”

Despite her laughing, he continued.

“At the end of it all, it wasn’t much different compared to what I witness daily. Those two children had more fighting spirit than some Guardians that participate in The Crucible, especially that Awoken girl. I taught her a sneak attack.”

That made her laughter come to a halt. Tirion couldn’t help but look around the apartment, just to be sure, as some fear and survival instincts had settled in. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, no weird noises anywhere. There seemed to be no weirdly placed buckets, either.

“Should… should I be worried? I don’t like surprises or getting startled... _Don’t_ do that.”

“I had her to hit Cayde with the ball once he returned from his pompous traipsing around the City.” There was nothing about the story that surprised her in the slightest but she still gasped. “Unfortunately, I can’t get away with hitting him without repercussions so it had to do. She executed the task _perfectly_ and silently, struck him straight in his metal neck with that ball of hers. Never thought I’d hear the bastard _yelp_.”

“Repercussions have _never_ stopped you.”

“They do when they involve Zavala and _walking_ back to the Tower.”

She kicked herself mentally for not being there to witness it, to witness not only the Shaxx-isms being used on _children_ but to also witness Cayde getting knocked down a couple of notches, and _yelping._ But, at least now she was sure she didn’t need to visit them to reprimand the emotional damage.

“Believe me, I’m not laughing because I want to make fun of you, _kind of_ – “ Tirion giggled “You with those kids, the whole ordeal just sounds _adorable_. Would have loved to see it.” Out of all the words in the dictionary, the word _adorable_ was something you would _never_ associate with Shaxx, yet she was the only one that could. “Glad you’re letting the _world_ see that there is an actual person underneath. In your own way.”

Tirion hasn’t laughed that hard in a while, in _months._ Even though her laughter faded, the smile still remained. He was the only one who could get that _genuine_ smile out of her.

“I appreciate the sentiment, at least.” Shaxx said as he inspected the bottle, trying to make sure that nothing was amiss with it. The rumors of caves with skeletons exuding whispers of Rahool’s name, something about a million deaths, made Shaxx extra wary of the old Awoken Cryptarch and everything that came from his direction.

He glanced up at her. It was difficult to pretend that nothing happened anymore, that no feelings were at play. They weren’t going to be able to put up with this for much longer. Tirion’s heart was about to jump out of her chest. She was the one who had to bring it out to the open. He’d be stuck in a hole of thinking otherwise, this wasn’t a problem he could punch. Tirion bit her lip and took a deep breath to prepare herself.

“You know Shaxx, I don’t mind what… _could_ have happened the night after I killed Oryx. Just… want you to know that. What you do with that knowledge is up to you.”

They had no excuses this time around. No one to interrupt them. Nothing realistic, at least.

They had to talk about it eventually. He put down the bottle and hesistantly walked up to her. He reached out a hand to cup her face, turning her head slightly so she would look up at him as her nerves had gotten the better of her. Many feelings were now running rampart on his face. Shaxx was happy that she brought it out to the open, but he was struggling to find a way how to continue the coversation, how to put it all into words.

There were no Frames he could send on a counter-attack in that moment.

“Tirion…” Shaxx began, there was now a tremble in his usually confident voice “I care very deeply for you. But…” She sighed, sensing where this was going. It was too good to be true. There was always a damn _but._

“But you’re _you_ and there are important things to do and you are _the_ Crucible and I get it. It’s… fine.”

“Not in the slightest.” Shaxx frowned, seeing the hurt in her face when she looked towards the floor for a second.

“This is rather difficult for me. I… I don’t regret it, I _meant_ it. But, I came to the conclusion that I don’t want to kiss you and lose you later. And you…” His other hand landed on her waist as he told her that, as if he was consciously battling what he _truly_ wanted to do and failing, getting lost in those glowing eyes. Noticing more details in them the longer he looked.

The Awoken eyes weren’t actually that frightening up close.

“…I never, _ever_ know with you, Tirion. Never know what kind of adventures you’ll be involved in. And I’m not sure if I could handle losing you as it is.” Shaxx whispered.

“Why would you lose me later, Shaxx?” Tirion once again proved her skill in asking questions she knew the answer to. Tirion was a Guardian, one with quite a status. A status that has infuriated quite a lot of hostile forces. That was one of the reasons to keep a low profile, one reason that took her too long to realize.

Part of her slow realization that this world was real and had consequences.

“Do you honestly need an answer to that question?”

“Yeah.” She said.

“Because you’re _the_ Hivebane, because you’re without a doubt the most reckless person I’ve met. Because you’re… breathtaking.“ Shaxx started to trail off, getting completely lost in her eyes. “…and because you’re too good to be true. Whatever this feeling may be… It’s _frightening_ , but by the Light I don’t want to stop feeling it.”

Just because you were a Guardian it didn’t mean that you got stripped of your feelings. The Traveler tried _so_ hard, it tried to wipe people’s memories, tried to wipe all source of humanity from them so that they would make better soldiers to fight a war that can’t be won, but it all unavoidably failed. The biggest reason wars are lost is because of a conscience.

She didn’t need to use her words to make him realize that he was a fool for thinking that she’ll be another Guardian that passes through the Tower and dies the next day, like vast majority of Guardians and associates he has encountered.

“I like you too much to die on you, Shaxx. Also, you’re too stubborn to _let_ me die and you know it.” She whispered with that smile, almost breathless from being that close to him, watching his eyes dart down to her lips.

The hand that was on her face moved a bit to tilt her chin up, and the Titan finally gave in and closed the minuscule distance between them by pressing his lips against hers roughly. He conveyed more with that than he could with words. Shaxx laced his fingers into her red hair, and used the other hand to pull her closer in when she reciprocated the kiss that was long overdue.

There was no hard armor or barriers between them this time around, just the two of them, smiling against each other’s lips, pulling each other closer and closer in. His usual confidence and hotheadedness returned due to getting over the hurdle, and it didn’t take long until they were tumbling towards the nearest wall.

It was all going to be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONGRATS SHAXX YOU DID IT
> 
> But seriously, if you haven't read the two best grimoire entries of all time, you're missing out.  
> http://www.ishtar-collective.net/cards/ghost-fragment-lord-shaxx#cayde-6  
> http://www.ishtar-collective.net/cards/ghost-fragment-lord-shaxx-2#cayde-6
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO.
> 
> This chapter is a season finalé, of sorts, at least until the Destiny 2 beta, maybe even longer. I have my plans as to where I want the story to go but I need a lil bit more info about the D2 plot. I'll not abandon this story, but I need to pause and plan out some things.
> 
> Now that we got this feelings fluff thing out of the way, it's time to focus on some interesting things and Tirion has got a massive storm coming. Don't think that she's all that clever and strong and smart. 
> 
> Also found a bunch of awesome Shaxx lore things, too. So stuff will be happening to him.
> 
> Sorry to everyone who hurt themselves by hitting their head against their desk after the previous chapter.


	21. And We Will Never Forget

_“From the day your Ghost woke you, your Light has been our beacon. You defended this City from the worst the Darkness sent against us. Atheon. Crota. Oryx. Aksis. When you are called on, you will do it again. The City’s children tell your story to each other, pretending to be Guardians. They grow braver and more powerful with each retelling. They are no longer afraid._

_You have shown them – and you have shown me – what it is to hope. You have led us to a new age, Guardian. An Age of Triumph… and remembrance. Today and tomorrow and every day, you fight for us. You fight for the Traveler. You fight for those who fled here from a thousand nations, looking for refuge._

_We thank you, Guardian._

_And we will never forget.”_

Tirion knew that it was for the best to accept the damn accolades.

She knew a lot of things.

But just because she knows them, doesn’t mean she’s going to heed them. It took quite the restraint to not curse out the Speaker during the speech and cause a commotion. So, she decided to take it out on some Fallen on the Cosmodrome. Everything the speaker said was borderline libel, though she knew that the Speaker just simply didn’t know any better. With every punch she struck she went through a section of the speech in her head.

Tirion did defend the City. _Unintentionally._

Black Garden was complicated. She couldn’t remember how she got wrapped up in it even if Glimmer depended on it.

She and her team killed Atheon just because they were _bored_. Bored, eager, wanting an adventure. Arrogant, cocky. It was difficult to be proud of conquering the Vault now, when that alone caused Skolas and then later on Oryx attempt to seize the vault for their own needs, the latter succeeding.

Much could have been avoided if it weren’t for their arrogance and desire for adventure.

They killed Crota just because it was supposed to pay well, as by then they thought they could conquer the _world._ What was a brittle Hive god that she weakened? They didn’t know they would find horrors that will imprint themselves on their minds until Light is no more. They didn’t know that the abominations will keep them from sleeping for years to come, that what they had seen would tear their friendship apart.

Oryx was a journey to fix a mistake. The Vanguard did all of the planning, she was just a gun they pointed. Though when they finally killed Oryx, it felt as if the shroud of Darkness was slightly lifted, giving them movement room and strength to finally shake it off, if they so desire.

Aksis was just a minor fly they swatted, and it paid well.

For the longest time, none of it was done in the interest of the City and the Tower. It was just done for selfish reasons. It’s so easy to forget about the City down below.

The amount of disgust she felt over the children of the City pretending to be Guardians was the hardest to deal with, the hardest to be silent about. They were pretending to be a _romanticized_ versions of Guardians.

If those innocent souls would even have an idea of how it is to be a Guardian, it would _ruin_ them. They don’t know about the nightmares, they don’t know about the crisis of existence. They don’t know of the horrors that Guardians have to witness on a daily basis. It was easier to forget and pretend that the City doesn’t exist so that the stress of protecting it won’t kill you. It was easier to not think of the numbers, as to how many Guardians there were left and how quickly they were dwindling.

How her actions, what she and her team did, ensured that the sacrifices of a thousand Guardians before her weren’t in vain.

Living in ignorance was the best for survival.

All the children know is that Guardians look beautiful, and leave enemies dead in their wake without breaking a sweat.

They grew more powerful by reciting blatant _lies_ to each other. That was not the world Tirion wanted to live in. She wanted to leave behind a world where those stories don’t get created in the first place, because evil forces aren’t attempting to eradicate life. A world without Darkness. Just _one_ world.

It wasn’t her that showed them how it is to hope, it was false pretenses that did it. Delusions about the world.

Tirion did want to hear the stories, though. To hear what they’ve been telling. To know what kind of legacy she’ll leave behind. Whether they tell stories about her being kind or about her going ballistic on Hive.

She wasn’t fighting for the Traveler; she can’t say she ever believed in it. That thought was sacrilege for Warlocks, hence why she never said it out loud. After three years and the Traveler only showing signs of dying, it was difficult to worship it and not dismiss it as a dead ship. She saved it once, and it only resulted to whispers and rumors that the Traveler only has less than two years left.

As fighting for the people that had fled to the City from a thousand nations, she had nothing to do with it.

All of this had left her in a state of existential crisis.

There were two Tirions running amok now. She wasn’t sure which one was better.

_The Hero_. The one who fought against the best the Darkness had to offer, and _won_. A powerful Warlock that all Guardians look up to, the Vanguard’s greatest success story. The one who gladly took initiative to save the world for a better future. Revered by all. The one who stands within the same ranks as Saint-14, the Iron Lords, Thalor, and countless others.

And then there was _The Wrench_ : a former gang leader, a Glimmer enthusiast. The Warlock that accidentally did some things. Some tired, reckless Awoken riddled with nightmares of Hive Thralls tearing her apart. Vanguard’s and the Reef’s gun for hire. A Guardian that is unable to disobey an order, because following orders is the only life she knows of, because following orders to shoot anything that moves is the _only_ thing that gives her life a purpose. Now, she leads a group of guns for hire. Only difference between that and a gang is that there are rules about not injuring people, no matter how well it pays.

Now as the Evaluator predicted, she found herself in a place with no orders to follow, thus no purpose of life, thus never-ending downward spiral of panic. Panic that she, as per usual, chose to ignore.

At least both of those versions of her had one thing in common: neither had any identity.

She remembered the words of Lord Radegast: " _Our lives are no longer our own. We have sworn them in service to the Traveler, and to humanity."_

Considering that Radegast died, Tirion didn’t take that statement to heart. There was far more to being a Guardian than worshipping a dead ship. She wasn’t going to be part of a cult.

But, these thoughts were best left inside her head, never seeing the light of day. If the lies did truly inspire people, then what does it matter as long as they never find out the truth? They were happy, they grew braver. The truth would put them in a rut.

It didn’t help with the disgust, but that’s a small sacrifice she was forced to let happen. For the City.

Patrol beacons didn’t give her the same satisfaction as orders did, as she had cleaned the vast majority of them on the Cosmodrome without feeling a twinge of _anything_.

Tirion decided to spend the remainder of the day in the City, in search for something that had no name. She sat on some of the rubble, watching three children play with all sorts of makeshift swords and guns made from plaster, papers and sticks.

“… and Oryx fell with a loud…” One of the children made a fake-gurgling noise as he laid down on the ground covered with snow, before quickly standing up and grabbing his makeshift sword. “And the Guardian was like---“ he proceeded to stab the air, making grunting noises. “Die, Oryx!”

The two other children were not impressed by the boy’s antics.

“Pffft, I’m pretty sure it was way cooler than that!” The girl said. “She probably used her powers to infuse electricity into the sword, flinging Oryx off the ship!”

The third child, an Awoken boy, scoffed. “My parents told me that she created bombs to kill him, out of _nothing_! My parents are never _ever_ wrong!”

Tirion found herself smiling at the sight underneath her helmet, surprising herself. They didn’t need to know the truth. Though, she wished for a future where kids wouldn’t even know what guns, swords and bombs are.

“Hey! Let’s ask that Guardian over there!” The human boy pointed at Tirion.

“My parents say it’s rude to point…” The Awoken boy protested, but still followed the girl and the other boy as they approached Tirion.

This was going to be fun.

“Hello!” The human boy greeted cheerfully, waving his hand in front of her helmet trying to catch her attention.

“My parents say I shouldn’t talk to strangers…”

That earned a small glare from the human boy to the Awoken. Tirion decided to wave back at them, the voice would give it away.

“Ya know the story of The Guardian, right? The one who is all better than you?” Tirion nodded. “How do _you_ think she killed the King?”

The three children looked in anticipation as Tirion reached up her hands and pulled off her helmet, gasping once they immediately recognized her.

Maybe it wasn’t _that_ bad. Tirion wasn’t necessarily a fan of children, nor was she good with them, but those eyes filled with joy wasn’t a sight she was going to groan at.

“You’re her!” The girl marveled.

“Hi.” Tirion said, smiling at them.

“That’s not her…” The Awoken boy said

“Shut up Theo, yes it is!” Human boy argued.

“Do you uh… do you three have names?” Tirion asked.

“I’m Noma.” The girl said. “That’s Vinnie, the one like, er, _you_ is Theo.”

“Those are some nice names. And there is nothing wrong with being an Awoken.”

Theo’s eyes lit up slightly at that comment. Tirion had influence over those kids, influence that she had little gift for, power that shouldn’t be given to someone like her. They looked up to her, to this mythical icon.

That was overbearing.

Vinnie stole the view before she got too deep into her thoughts.

“Please tell us all about how Oryx was killed!”

“No, Atheon!”

“ _Oryx_ first!”

Tirion chuckled at her little fan club. Wide eyed, eager, looking at her as if it was the highlight of their _life_. She wasn’t going to get out of this without leaving them heartbroken. They sat down when they saw her open her mouth. “It’s quite the story, though. We’ll have to start at the beginning.”

“We don’t mind!”

Tirion almost crumbled under the pressure. “I’m going to let you in on a secret, a _hero’s_ secret. Can you three keep a secret?” The trio nodded at that, eyes getting wider with interest. Tirion realized that in _theory_ , she could raise an army of the kids with the power she had. Lorc will have _nothing_ on messing with people.

“Er… You see, the best way to defeat your enemies is _not_ beating them to a pulp. They’ll come back with a vengeance if you do that. If you want them to leave you alone, you have to _frighten_ them. You have to challenge the enemies in their own home, in the ways of their own ideology.”

“What does ideology mean?” Vinnie asked.

“It means _beliefs_.” Noma said, making Tirion a bit proud.

Tirion continued on. “The second secret is that you sometimes can’t do things alone, and need some friends. Friends that you don’t necessarily always get along with, or _like_ , or even tolerate sometimes, but they are your family.”

Tirion kept the story _somewhat_ child friendly, reading her share of fairytales taught her how to phrase things in a way that mesmerized children. Tirion did her best to answer all the potential questions that rose up, and tried her best to settle some feuds between the three that almost happened.

“… I _knew_ it was bombs!” Theo exclaimed, almost boastfully. “What happened next?”

“All six of us ran back to the middle, and used _all_ our might to shoot Oryx in the chest, staggering him, ending his reign. We shot him _so_ powerfully that we pushed him into Saturn.”

“No _way!_ Is he still there?” Vinnie gasped.

“Maybe. It’s a hero’s secret.” Tirion honestly had _no_ idea. She would think about the dreamland that was fighting Oryx, but she didn’t want a headache. “That’s for you three to find out when you become mighty adventurers.”

“But I don’t wanna be a Warlock.” Vinnie whined.

“Warlocks are cool!” Noma crossed her arms. “And _you_ aren’t a Guardian, Vinnie! You can’t become one!”

“Titans are _cooler_! Lord Shaxx is a Titan!” Vinnie said.

“Hunters are the _best._ Cayde-6 is a Hunter, he’s better than Shaxx. _Everyone_ is better than Shaxx.” Theo cut in, and Tirion muttered a very quiet _‘How dare you?’_ under her breath before collecting herself.

“We had two Warlocks, two Hunters and two Titans to defeat Oryx. All three classes are great, a _class_ doesn’t make a Guardian great, it’s what they do with it. But yeah, Shaxx is pretty cool.” Tirion said instead.

“See!” Vinnie grinned smugly, and Theo stuck his tongue out.

“But you know who’s cooler than both of them, even cooler than Zavala, and Shaxx, _and_ Cayde? Ikora Rey. But… the story of her famed shotgun and prowess will have to wait for an---”

“One more story!” Noma begged.

Tirion shook her head with a fake frown. “Maybe no… You won’t be able to handle how cool she is.”

“No one is cooler than Lord Shaxx. I don’t believe you.” The human boy scowled.

“Well, it did all start in the Crucible, around 125 years ago…”

* * *

 

“ _How_ are _we_ still alive?” The question was sudden, making Shaxx look up briefly from the reports. Usually he does them in his den. That has changed as of late.

“If it was anyone but you asking that, I would have an answer.” He said without any hesitation.

She was on the couch, with arms crossed, concentrating on some spot on the ceiling to try and get her thoughts in order.

“How many Guardians are there, out there?” She asked.

“Around 6000, with no new Ghosts going out, only recycled.”

“That _few_? Really?”

“Crota played a part in making that number that small.” There was a long moment of uncharacteristic silence from the Warlock after Shaxx said that. “Are you through downplaying your accomplishments, yet?”

“No.” Tirion said. “Right place, resurrected at right time. If I would have been at The Great Disaster I would have died. But that’s not my point.”

The Great Disaster.

It’s always at the back of his mind, possibly more than Twilight Gap. Though in recent times he has found somewhat of a peace with it, as he had finally managed to _fully_ reverse engineer the dreaded Hive blades that took so many. It took years of work and lengthy missives to the Cryptarchs, and Tirion’s own knowledge and experience with them on top of it.

That was just simply how he dealt with things, turning Darkness into Light, not letting anything thwart his resolve.

_Most_ things. Recent events involving a particular Warlock had changed his track record. He wasn’t exactly complaining, however.

“The day before the Great Disaster was the last day I spoke to Zavala.” He told. “The political scum that was the Consensus could have prevented the slaughter if they would have listened to me.”

“But they didn’t.”

Shaxx shook his head. “I _pleaded_ with them to delay the attack until we understood the Hive swords better. Zavala interrupted me twice, and left it to the Consensus to decide. The rest… the rest is why you should just embrace the bloody accolades given to you.” His voice had a hint of pain in it as he said the last part. He saw how fidgety she was during that speech.

She’ll get over it eventually, eventually come to terms with “The Hero”. _Eventually,_ she kept telling herself. At least for Shaxx. She owed him that much, she owed to at least _pretend_. But it wouldn’t be a thing she would be able to keep up for long.

“I do agree that all I did was beyond monumental, there is no argument about it. But, there are people out there that believe with their _life_ that I just swooped in with a sword of Light like an angel full of grace and sliced Crota’s head off, then threw it into the Black Garden to shut it down.”

There were quite the amount of hand gestures and theatrics involved as she told that. “ _No_. There were 6 people involved in it and no grace. I will _never_ live up to what people think I am. That’s why I was fidgeting.”

She shifted her body to a sitting position, clasping her hands like she usually does when thinking about the Moon.

“Do you think them knowing what actually happened would inspire them more? I do not think you ever told me what the coup was about.”

For her, it felt weird to ruminate about that fateful day now, since she and her team were friends again, and everything has been forgiven and forgotten. Rather, ignored and never talked about but the actions spoke for themselves.

Tirion looked over to him. “Do you want to know so you can decide for yourself?”

Shaxx knew that the answer to the question was a _no,_ even for him. The lengths she goes to in order to avoid sleep and that pain in those glowing eyes piercing into his told him a lot. But he needed to understand.

He turned off the datapads and put them aside as she stood up. “If you are ready to tell it.”

Tirion stood up and started pacing slowly back and forth, as if struggling to not grab a bottle.

“We… saw a lot of horrors down in the Hellmouth. My report on it doesn’t cover _half_ of it. The Hive… their necropolis they built, what they have done with the dead Guardians and their Light… We were all vulnerable, and there was no victory felt when we killed Crota. It was like trying to light wet logs on fire for warmth. All six of us sat down to have a discussion. It all came down to the question of ‘ _After everything we’ve seen,_ _is it really worth to be alive anymore?’_ ”

Tirion grabbed a book, just to have something in her hands as she paced.

“Kouhei, he proposed a plan. We all _die_ there and then he, the lone survivor, reports to the Vanguard and then offs himself. No one should know what went down there, we knew that there was no living with what we saw.” Shaxx took the opportunity to reach and grab her shaking hand when she put the book down on the desk, keeping her from pacing. The small action to provide comfort did more than he knew.

“Haya and Huritt _agreed_ with him.” Tirion seethed the words out. “I, Lorc and Alva _strongly_ disagreed with that plan. We were scarred, but we didn’t want to _die_. We knew that what we saw would haunt us, but we didn’t want to die. I knew that Kouhei wasn’t intending to die, he lied to reap the rewards for himself and be renowned as a hero. Either way. Alva ran away, she missed the worst of it.”

That hand holding hers tightened as she kept telling the story. Tirion sat down on a chair next to him, trying to remember the rest.

“Kouhei… he fully broke down. The best damn Defender I know _broke down._ He went on this rant, about life and death and how this world is impure and sins have been committed and a bunch of nonsense. How the Traveler’s gift is a _plague_ , how he has been ascended by God himself and he’s above humanity. Lorcan tried to calm him down, Kouhei stabbed the hunter repeatedly with the hunter’s own knife, not enough to kill him though. Only _then_ the others changed sides.”

She was silent for a minute, thinking, getting too lost in the memories. Tirion didn’t expect the story to make her that angry. It was easier to just forget.

“What happened next?” He pulled her out of it.

“Kouhei resumed his ranting, and I decided to interrupt him by punching him. He had a surprise Fist ready for me, ended as well as you’d imagine. Haya and Huritt were felled in the blast.” She sighed. “Rest is a blur, but that was the first time I resurrected myself as a Sunsinger. I subdued Kouhei with a couple of bullets as the others got revived. It was this brief moment of temporary insanity…”

Tirion trailed off, seemingly finishing the story. She looked up at him, not needing to say anything more.

It was a choice between a tale of heroes breaking down because of the horrors they saw and some of them deciding that a final death is a better option than living with what this Darkness riddled world has to offer, _or_ a tale of a brave lone Guardian who struck down a Hive god effortlessly with a smile on her face.

The latter is the story that people believe in, but it belittles the meaning and impact of _everything_ that actually happened. Hero worship was complicated.

“You were defeated, but you managed to pick yourselves up and come back stronger, and killed the King. To me and others, that story is more preferable than a story about an indestructible Guardian. Get that story out.”

She never saw it in that way. Crota was never actually the end of the story, but the middle. It _ended_ with Oryx. She was sure that the cheers and yells when they killed the King were heard across the Solar System. The complete opposite of how they felt when they felled Crota. The realization was visible on her face, in the shape of a small smile. Getting the story out was rather therapeutic.

“But what’s honorable in being defeated like that? It wasn’t a thing Crucible training could fix.”

“Honor lies in what you do when you fail. You did pretty well.”

She fully agreed with him, yet still laughed as she couldn't help herself.

“What?” Shaxx asked.

“Nothing.” She laid her free hand on his, on the one that was squeezing her own. “Having a conversation about normal things would be boring, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re not exactly normal, even for this world.” He said. That slightly raised eyebrow made him regret his words. Part of him hated it how she was the only thing that made him fumble. “That came out wrong. I hold little gift for this.”

Tirion didn’t take offence, instead she just leaned in and kissed him as he was about to turn his head, and pulled away all too soon.

“Neither of us make sense. Takes one to know one.” She said, jokingly.

“I would love if you would clarify that.”

“Every loss in the Crucible is personal to you, Shaxx. You want both teams to win, but get angry when the match is tied. You get angry when people hold more than two control points at once, but you commend them once they take all three points. And you’re about to say something about how it makes sense because the Crucible represents true combat and true combat is unpredictable and you need to be prepared for everything.”

Shaxx also liked to prove people wrong, even if she was slightly laughing when she said that. He stood up and pulled Tirion up to her feet and used his other hand to pull her closer to him, and kissed her fiercely, replacing her giggle with a happy gasp.

They pulled one inch away from eachother after a while, out of breath.

“So, if a Warlock speaks, feed her her words?” She chuckled, capturing his lips again and then letting him lead her away to another room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal headcanon with the Crota Strike(tm) is that our Guardians witnessed a lot of bad stuff and just repressed a lot of stuff that went down there, hence why it's so short.
> 
> Give Tirion an opportunity to fangirl over Ikora and she'll take it. 
> 
> As for the Guardian count, euuugh I don't know. According to the Owl Sector (which I completely forgot about because it was silly...) there are about 10,000. But some Grimoire entries say it's about 5000. So I settled with 6000 "Tower Guardians" and 4000 Guardians that are in the Wild just picking flowers or something or worshipping Osiris or having a sweet, sweet breakdancing class ordeal. How do you think the Guardians learned how to breakdance in Destiny 2?
> 
> Also if I would write smut, the next chapter would be smut. But I don't like smut, I think most of it is awkward to read and just written by people who never had smut IRL. 
> 
> Also Shaxx is a goddamn paradox of a character if you read the grimoire entries GG Bungie.
> 
> BETA THIS TUESDAY. Hype is real.


	22. Winning.

There is a saying around the Tower.

Put a Titan and a Hunter in the same room, they will kill each other.

Put a Titan and a Warlock in the same room, they will have a deep discussion about how much they hate Hunters.

Put a Warlock and a Hunter in the same room, and by the end of the day something will inevitably explode.

Put all three in the same room, the Hunter will find a solution to a problem, the Titan will take credit for it, and the Warlock will spend the whole day trying to figure out how punching a wall opened a door.

“Hey! You can’t do this to me!” Cayde complained, making his presence known in the Hall. It was a rare sight these days. There wasn’t much left for a Hunter Vanguard to do since the Guardians have things covered, besides mucking around in Crucible related business.

It didn’t mean that Shaxx had to tolerate it. He was above the Vanguard.

“Would you like it better if I brought up the _entire_ list of your bookies and banned the rest of them this very _second_ along with that one scoundrel, or is _one_ getting banned enough?”

Reading if someone was bluffing was difficult enough, getting a helmet involved in it made it _impossible_. Shaxx has never been the one known to bluff or lie, or to use mind games to frighten people. He just outright frightens people by being _himself._

Cayde thought about it for a second, stuck in a stare off. “You’re bluffin’ ‘bout the list.” The Exo decided to take the chance, and was handed a datapad as a response. Cayde eyed over the list of familiar names on it, breathing out a small sigh of relief.

“Only 30 names? I have _way_ more bookies than that.” Cayde scoffed. “I ain’t worried. You can’t do much with this. I win.”

“You have only 30 out of the 58 that are competent enough to fall under the definition of the word ‘bookie’. Cut these bets, especially on behalf of others, out of the Crucible or _I’ll_ cut them out.”

“Sorry to say that you’re not winnin’ by doing that, Shaxx.”

The Titan returned to the console, unbothered. "Denying resources to your enemy is a victory unto itself. Applies to all things. Whether it be the Cabal or scum Hunters.”

“Half of those bets weren’t even made _in_ the Crucible.” Cayde objected, fighting a losing battle but refusing to admit that he was losing.

“I see _everything_ those vermin do. They were _monetizing_ it. You gain nothing from lying to my face.”

Cayde shrugged. “I gain _amusement._ Ya’ don’t know the worth of that. Besides when you’re witnessing, uh, consecutive… murder streaks…” The distracting skulls and trophies on the walls still sent a shiver down the Exo’s spine. “Y’know, the Tower is going through some renovations…”

“Just go away. You have work to do. Whatever it is you do.” Shaxx tried to dismiss him, crossing his arms.

“That's why I'm bugging you. You should tell your better half that she’s is late with angering annual hostile force. She won’t even anger _you_. Leaves little to do for me. And I still have leverage on you.”

Cayde set up a trap with that, but didn’t know that Shaxx was smart enough to not fall for it.

“Traveler forbid that you actually would do something productive, Cayde. Have you run out of weapons to be elitist about?”

“Nope. I just found a project to invest Glimmer in instead of Crucible bets, called _How Does A Certain Warlock Put Up With This?_ It’ll be a huge hit. I’ll get Ikora and Zavala involved in it, too.”

Now it was Shaxx's turn to figure out if it was a bluff or not. Both of them were a part of a never-ending verbal poker game, with no cards involved, just a reputation, amusement, Glimmer, and a couple of awkward conversations with Zavala, accompanying a chance for controversy about the treatment of Guardians that participate in the Crucible.

"I could have a hundred Redjacks make sure that you never do that."

The Hunter laughed. "I'm not scared." He said, as he watched Shaxx write something on the console, seemingly ignoring the Hunter and his games. "So, Shaxx. We got a de--" Cayde didn't get to finish asking the question as a metal finger that touched his shoulder caused him to jump, draw his gun and turn around hastily. It took him longer than he would be proud of to admit to notice that it was just Arcite.

Cayde holstered the revolver without any further comments.

"What were you saying, Hunter?"

* * *

Since things had calmed down, it was deemed appropriate to give the Tower a much needed renovation. Section by section the Frames and volunteer Guardians worked tirelessly to bring the Tower into a new Age, to give the Guardians a Tower that reflected their accomplishments and power.

“Do you have a Ghost chassis I could have?” Kouhei asked to break the silence, his eyes focused on a ledge, high up in the Tower. The gears that were turning almost poked through his skull.

“I do… why?” Tirion tried to see what he was looking at, but finding nothing. Her blurred vision was no help, either.

“Give it to me.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“To mess with Lorcan.”

Tirion knew better. She knew better than to agitate Lorc further. That hunter didn’t deserve most of the flack that has been thrown at him as of late.

She also had a Ghost shell for him within a matter of seconds.

Kouhei took it from her hands, never fumbling and never taking his eyes off what he was looking at. The Titan put in a small dark grey ball in the shell. Without a further word, he threw the Ghost shell high in the air, watched it fly and land on the ledge he was looking at, the tip of the shell barely visible. It was there for the keenest of Hunter eyes.

“Now wait.” He sat down on the ground, _still_ looking up at the ledge. Letting her curiously guide her, Tirion sat down next to him. Thankfully, the awkward silence between them didn’t last long as Lorcan arrived quickly.

“What’s this about a new dead Ghost?” The hunter asked, almost bouncing up and down.

Kouhei pointed up. “Up there. Thought you might want to have it. To forgive and forget.”

Tirion did her best to cover up the snort she made as a reaction to Kouhei’s act at being _kind_. Lorcan didn’t seem to be that bothered by it, as he was already on his way to climb the scaffolding to get to the “Ghost”. The Titan and the Warlock silently watched the agile Hunter climb, his body shaking more and more the higher he climbed.

Lorcan was fully trembling by the time he reached the ledge, one shaky hand grabbing a metal pole as if his life depended on it, other hand reaching out for the Ghost shell. Kouhei and Tirion could hear that slight whimpering of his all the way down there.

“Should we help him?” Tirion asked, mesmerized by the sight. She’s been staring at it for so long her neck has started to hurt as Lorcan and the Shell were stuck in some strange stare off. Lorc was _determined_ to get that Ghost shell, despite the fear of heights he keeps denying. It was one of the reasons he always relied on his drone instead of climbing. But now that the drone has been banned in the Tower after an unfortunate incident, it was a perfect time to exploit it for a prank.

The Hunter was smart, but never smart enough to let his own Ghost take care of the simplest things.

Lorcan’s sweat-slicked hand slipped from the pole, and he fell face forward. His flailing and yelping didn’t help him to regain his balance, and he plummeted down with a yell.

_Guardian Down._

“No.” Kouhei answered.

Lorcan materialized, ignoring the sighs from his Ghost. The Hunter glared up at the Ghost shell that was still up on the ledge, and repeated the process of climbing the scaffolding again, earning a few annoyed stares from Frames that just want to work.

_Sigh. Guardian Down._

Didn’t stop the very determined Hunter from trying it _four_ more times.

“There you are. Have you seen the Exos?” Haya asked, looking up at the spectacle, suddenly becoming fascinated by it. “What _are_ you guys doing?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s amusing.”

_Guardian Down._

Haya sat down next to the two. “How many times has he fallen?”

“I think six times by now?” The lone Warlock said.

“Huh...”

_Guardian Down._

“Seven.”

Except this time around, the Ghost shell fell down with Lorc. Once he materialized, he quickly picked up the shell to examine it, realizing that he’s been tricked for amusement with a gasp. The Hunter turned his gaze towards the three sitting Guardians, the sight reminding the trio of Golgoroth.

“You two have been messing with me?! There is a _magnet_ here! _Forgive and forget_ , Kouhei?!”

“Couldn’t help it.” Kouhei said, unflinching.

With the fury of a thousand offended suns, Lorc threw the Ghost shell on the ground, and it shattered to a hundred pieces. But this anger didn’t hail from being tricked. All four of them knew what it was about.

Even after all this time, they haven’t had a proper conversation about it. Considering how strongly Lorcan was fuming, they could no longer ignore it all.

Tirion sighed as she stood up. “You want to have that conversation now?”

“Why are _you_ the one opposed to having that conversation, Tirion?” Lorcan growled, watching the Warlock cross her arms and lean against a wall.

“Lorc, settle down. Please. It’s behind us.” Haya suggested.

“I will not settle down until I get an answer from the _Hero,_ the one who gets _all_ the stories told about her. The one who has led the Guardians into a new age! What would the people say if they knew that she doesn’t mind working with a murderer as long as he’s great at his job and she gets the credit?”

The Hunter was red in the face, fists clenched. Tirion still avoided his gaze, still counting in her head. The counting trick worked on all classes, all people.

It was only a matter of time. They had no more things they were obligated to shoot. Whenever boredom struck in, tomfoolery happened. Sometimes they pranked each other, sometimes they stabbed each other. They didn’t know how to handle life without enemies to shoot.

Once she reached zero, Tirion took a deep breath. “I’m not going to stand here and entertain the idea that _any_ of the six of us are shining examples of what a Guardian should be.”

“So just to be absolutely clear, we’re past the jokes and goofing off now?” Haya asked, and her question getting ignored answered that question.

Tirion continued, still not looking up. “The very _idea_ of us holding a lecture about moral compasses is an absolute joke.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question, Tirion. What do you think people would say?”

Tirion finally looked up, frankly at a loss for words as she slightly shook her head.

“I don’t know. Settle the feud between you and Kouhei in pure combat. He has proven himself in my eyes and it’s forgiven on my end.” She briefly looked over at the Titan, who was as quiet as he usually is, with his arms crossed. “As for the people… Doesn’t matter.  It was war, decisions were made. They’ll understand. They write their own tales that don’t represent reality.”

Lorcan scoffed. “I asked an answer from _you_ , not Shaxx. What happened to you?”

“Oryx.” She said, simply. “And you leaving for a year. And the Moon. And a bunch of nonsense.”

It never truly went away. Meeting up with them again did bring her former self back for a moment, the immaturity and the silliness they got into. But there was no going back to it permanently after everything she went through to take down Oryx.

“Alright, then.” He turned his gaze towards the Titan. “Did _you_ have any plans to go through with what you promised in the Hellmouth?”

“Not at all.” Kouhei admitted.

“Why are we discussing this? It’s behind us.” Haya tried to intervene.

“Haya, you agreed with him.” Lorcan said. “What is he still doing here, Tirion?!”

“ _I’m_ not having this conversation.” The Warlock pushed herself off of the wall and started to walk away. “Settle it with _guns_.”

“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? Shoot it until it’s no longer a problem?”

“Yep.”

* * *

 

“Evening, Hivebane.” Shaxx greeted when he saw her enter the Hall.

“How’s the Crucible?”

The Titan sighed. “I do hold respect for your team, but they have made me reconsider allowing established Fireteams in the Crucible. Rumble to be specific.”

Tirion had spent most of the day avoiding news coming from the Crucible, not having any desire to know how the argument ended. A perk of being a Guardian is that in most places, you could kill each other over and over without guilt.

“Sorry. I couldn’t deal with an argument we were having. Sent them off to fight each other.” Tirion said. “Did it make for a good fight, at least?”

“It made me curious as to why all six of you haven’t been in a simple Control match. Would love to see it and how you work together. Could set a standard for Guardians.”

“I like you too much to kill you, because if I’d tell you…”

Her misfits had an interesting dynamic. They could work together and solve problems to a skill level that was as close to _brilliant_ as you can get; they had the smarts and wits that complimented each other out in the _field._

When they were out there, they had their full concentration on the task at hand.

They would have died a long time ago if that wasn’t the case. They would be diminished to six additional skeletons next to Praedyth, or another incident similar to what Eris went through, or chitin for the Dreadnaught.

But when it came to putting them in a competitive environment together, _especially_ with or against actual _people,_ everything _always_ crashed and burned. She was very lucky that Shaxx is as busy as he is and never really did notice a dark part of her Crucible history, or never saw that dark history mysteriously “disappear” from the records.

All six of them went in together in a Control match together a couple of times, and it always got to a point where she expected Shaxx to descend from the heavens and just kill them right there and then for defiling his Crucible. Figuring how Vex work was simple compared to knowing what overextending entails.

“I would love to see it because there is a gap in some Crucible records, dated about two years ago.” He continued when she didn’t respond, watching her freeze slightly. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

She stared at him, almost seeing the smug expression past the helmet.

“There is nothing I can say to get out of this situation, is there?”

“No. Like there is nothing I can say about the concept of you facing me in combat. I tend not to challenge people that have killed the _King_. We’re even.”

She frowned for a second, gears turning in her head. “Hey Arcite...” Tirion turned towards the Frame, watching his head perk up.

“Y-yes?”

“What’s Lord Shaxx’s favorite weapon?” The Titan silently groaned at her plan. She was either smarter than she was aware of or playing dumb most of the time. Even with all these months of knowing her, he still couldn’t figure it out.

"I have seen Lord Shaxx earn many kills with Pulse Rifles, but he is excellent with any weapon." Arcite responded and returned to his work, sorting out some assignments for the Guardians for tomorrow.

The Warlock returned her gaze to Shaxx. “So you’re a Striker, then?”

“Even for a Warlock, figuring that out using only those parameters is impressive.”

“I just figured Arcite got confused after seeing you punch someone _really_ fast.” She joked. “Actually I overheard it from Ikora. Idol of every Striker, huh?”

“Warlocks…” He muttered under his breath, turning the lights off. He now undoubtedly owed her a couple more stories about the early days of the Crucible.

“Hm…” Tirion begun. She was trying to develop the scheme in her head. “A Striker against a Sunsinger in the Crucible. The King killed or not, there is no winning for you, big guy.” She challenged him.

“Tempting. Only reason I’m not taking you up on that challenge is because someone has to oversee the match.”

Now she was the one with the smug smile, scoffing. She could see trough the excuse. “Right. Of _course_.”

"A seasoned Striker could easily outmatch a Sunsinger, and a smart Sunsinger knows when to come back from the dead to catch the enemy off guard and not get shut down in an instant."

"Who says that?" She asked.

" _I_ do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fite her, Shaxx.
> 
> Crimson Days mebbe in next chapter. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> I sort of lost my life to the Destiny 2 beta. Homecoming was awesome.
> 
> Plot will pick up after a couple of chapters. I just need an excuse to write these characters just goofing off n being happy n stuff for a little while.
> 
> Also the whole thing with Cayde's bookies and Shaxx banning one of them is canon to the lore. I would pay serious money for an actual cutscene with Shaxx and Cayde bickering with eachother.
> 
> Also, here is a grimoire quote from Ikora:
> 
> "Shaxx seems not to have a preference for a specific firearm. In his days as a competitor, he would finish fights with his hands whenever he could. He was the idol of every Striker." —Ikora Rey


	23. Lessons Learned

The sharp sun in the Plaza made it hard to ignore the fact that she was “ _slightly”_ hung-over.

Not even the slayer of Kings could drink a Titan under the table.

Due to an expanding list of reasons and excuses, they couldn’t fight each other in the Crucible to prove a point. So, they decided on something more creative. Rather, _stumbled_ into the creative idea. What started off as a story about his Crucible days ended in a drink. One drink turned into two, two drinks turned into a contest. She took great offense to something he said about Warlocks being better with books than with guns and holding their liquor, which just added fuel to the fire. Then they were stumbling into bed.

He was even immune to the hangover, adding to her salt.

But before the contest, she and the Titan decided to keep their _arrangement_ a secret from the others in the Tower. It all came down to numerous reasons, from possible Crucible bias accusations, to not accidentally causing an early final death for Zavala. Or the teasing from Cayde and Ikora that they would _never_ live down. Both of them had a reputation to uphold.

The Warlock knelt down to touch the pieces of the strange, red, material scattered on the ground and was relieved that it wasn’t blood, like she had initially thought in her hazy state. It felt soft, almost like silk. The material had also a distinct scent to it, which overpowered the Tower, leaving her in a perpetual state of almost sneezing.

It slowly dawned on her that it was Crimson Days. She would never hear the end of it.

“Behave, _Little Light_.” Tirion warned Ghost when she heard a tiny chirp. Only response she got from her little bot was a rather mischievous chuckle. “Seriously. _Don’t!_ ”

“I won’t.” Ghost said in a sing-song voice.

Their weird debate of her continuously warning him and her Ghost responding with laughing and sly remarks not only painted her as a crazy woman, but it continued until she reached the Hall. Cayde had sent a message about a job which could not be ignored. She hoped it could be passed on to someone else, considering the circumstances.

“Hey, Hivebane. Ready for a day of combat?” She didn’t need to see his face to know that Shaxx was smirking when he said that, her glare probably made it worse.

“There isn’t a word in any of my Warlock books to express how much I hate you right now.” She looked down at some of the data pads on the desk as Shaxx laughed. It wasn’t what he heard last night.

“Oh look! It’s two of my favorite people in the Hall… and Shaxx!” Cayde greeted as he passed by, interrupting the moment. Tirion could hear the individual metal pieces of the Exo moving.

“You won’t believe what kinda’ job I have for you. Get your entire team ready, Guardian.”

“What do you possibly need _six_ people for?”

“I’ll give you a hint: three for a songstress and three for an old friend of yours with a liking for scorch cannons. Details and locations sent to your Ghost. We’ll brief you fully later. Get movin’.”

She cringed. “Why me? Not gonna lie, it doesn’t sound like anything I want to do.”

“Because you’re my favorite, Guardian. But it’s sort of an _immediate_ issue. Time’s kinda wastin’.”

With a slight incoherent mumble, she turned on her heels and walked out of the Hall, trying to figure out where her people could be. Cayde did miss being a human sometimes, but he certainly didn’t look back fondly at hangovers.

Since the Titan sicced Arcite on him yesterday, Cayde has been very wary about being around Shaxx. But he wasn’t going to let him know that.

“Y’ain’t going to get iffy with her for being hung-over and not taking serious Darkness matters seriously?” Cayde asked the Titan after watching Tirion walk away. “No talk ‘bout glory in battle and all that damn stuff you say?”

“I’m not going to question her, considering her track record. You can argue about it with her yourself, Cayde. Just don't ask _me_ to pick the bullets out of you when you get back.”

Cayde scoffed. “Do you really think that low of me?”

“Yes.”

“Well. Unlike you, I’m not a Striker with a death wish, I’m a _Hunter_ , I don’t get shot. Simple.” Cayde bragged. “Gunslingers shoot people _before_ they get shot at.”

“You’re not a Nightstalker, either. If you were one, you wouldn’t be a constant pest.” Shaxx cut in before Cayde could demonstrate his point with finger guns.

“We’ll never get along, will we? Man, I was _so_ looking forward to that.”

* * *

 “I… I might take the Moon. Take Taniks.” Tirion mumbled, the barely coherent words making her whole team stop to stare at her. She didn’t want to do it, despite it being _months_ since the incident with the stealth cloak.

But her options made the moon preferable for many reasons.

She didn’t expect a _hangover_ to make her face her fear. She almost expected a glorious battle, where the safety of the City depended on her going back to the Moon and conquering her fear. Not a dumb argument with a Titan that couldn’t be won.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Haya asked. “You don’t have to do it if you’re not ready.”

“No.” The warlock rested her head in her hands, wincing. “I’m kinda… uh, I’m _very_ hung-over. Omnigul is _not_ a cure for hangovers.”

Lorcan’s laugh made matters worse. “ _What_ did you do?”

“A Titan.” She was very proud over her joke. “And about-losing-track-of-things after two bottles. Never mind. Who wants to take what?”

“How bad could Omnigul possibly be?” Kouhei asked. “It’s just a Hive Wizard. Fought hundreds of those.”

Tirion raised her head and eyed the room, trying to hide the disbelief. She’d smile at their innocence if it wouldn’t hurt.

“Curious. How many of you have the same question as him?”

Lorcan and Haya raised their hands in an instant, and Huritt was doing his best to not laugh. It was easy when you were an Exo. Alva wasn’t even listening as she was tinkering with a cloak that she stole from a Psion.

It just occurred to Tirion that Omnigul’s first death happened _after_ all of them had left, but Huritt knew about her and her screaming because of his Hive knowledge. Since Lorc was complaining about “old Tirion” being gone the other day, she decided to prove them wrong.

“Alright. I’ll take Taniks with Alva and Huritt. Er… This means Lorc, Haya and Kouhei take Omnigul.” She almost felt sorry for that.

_Almost._

But considering how many headaches that trio put her trough, it was all worth it. It was undoubtedly _petty,_ but she didn’t care.

The Vanguard will hate her for a minute, but at least the mission will get done and she’ll get amusement out of it. The trio disappeared in an instant to find their ships, not having a clue as to what they will embark on.

“That was just cruel.” Huritt pointed out, finally laughing. “Well done.”

Tirion shrugged, slightly proud of herself. “Remind me to request the comm recordings from the Vanguard once they’re done. Let’s get to our ships.”

* * *

 The hangover was a convenient distraction. It helped having a headache to focus on to distract her from the Hive as they used Alva’s tech to sneak past them, as the trio made their way to Taniks’ ketch. Tirion had most of the routes memorized forwards and backwards, so she didn’t even need to have her eyes open for most of it. The Exos checked up now and then with her, to make sure she was alright.

The worst part were the _sounds_ they made. Their movement sounding like her innards being mixed with a sword, the scratching of the Thralls, the screeching of the Wizards. Though Omnigul would have been a _lot_ worse, even if she wasn’t in the state that she was.

Zavala’s chatter wasn’t that difficult to ignore, and her being berated over not listening to him will be a problem for another time.

Things became easier once they reached the ketch, as no Hive had made their way up there, just the Devils. Only then she could concentrate on battle, she could pretend that the ketch was anywhere else but the moon. _Anything_ helped at that point.

The battle against her old fiend felt more like a fever dream than reality. It wasn’t anything a couple of well-placed stealth girds, sword swings and rocket shots couldn’t fix. Her pettiness was too strong to make her realize that two warlocks and a hunter do not make the most fortified team, but the stealth grids helped.

“…will have plenty of opportunities to study SIVA. The Devils are far from defeated.”

Tirion finally landed back to reality and she sat down on the cold metal ground, exhausted. No reply was provided to Zavala, she hoped that he understands why. All these years they’ve known each other, and they have never had an extended conversation with each other.

“You two go ahead…” Tirion said. “I’ll join you in the Tower later.”

“Are you sure? I’ll start writing the report then.”

“Yeah. I need a moment.”

The two metal figures were gone in almost an instant, leaving her on the ketch alone, surrounded by Fallen corpses. She was clutching her sidearm with a death grip, half anticipating all of them to come back to life. She couldn’t claim that she knew what SIVA _actually_ was. Tirion knew the basics of it, the concept, about Clovis Bray. But it always struck her as if SIVA is a living thing, like an _arm_ of something or someone. She hated the Plaguelands because it felt as if it was _constantly_ watching her, eyes on her and her alone. She didn’t need that paranoia on top of her existing one.

Tirion had to conquer this. Had to conquer it all. She kept repeating that in her head as she tried to control her breathing. There was no avoiding the Moon for the rest of her Guardian life. She also wasn’t sure where the hangover ended and where the panic and fear started. Trying to drown it all with alcohol just made her realize that it can swim.

“Guardian…” Her Ghost emerged, concerned. “It’s best we go home. We can go straight to Orbit from here, no need to backtrack.”

“Why does the Moon make… _them_ that much more terrifying to look at?”

Her little companion floated around the ketch, looking out through windows, deep in thought.

“Well. How about the positives? We’ve been through a lot together in this place.” The bot turned its one eye towards her. “We met that Exo, we saved the world. Found the World’s Grave. Oh! And we helped to craft swords! It isn’t _all_ that bad memories up here. But then again, I have better memory than you.”

“We mostly _backtracked_ corridors, that’s what we did.” She joked.

“Yeah there was a ton of that too. And locks. So many locks. They have just stopped trying, haven’t they? Just makes it easier for us!” Ghost laughed.

Tirion looked down at her shaking hands, no matter how tightly she held that sidearm, it didn’t stop. A lot of good things for _the City_ did hail from the things she did on the rock, but she deserved the right to be a _little_ bit selfish.

“I want to enjoy the night sky again when the moon is out.” She told. “Is that too much to ask for as a reward for saving the world?”

“You mean you don’t enjoy all the clamoring, fame, and glory and crippling pressure?” Ghost asked sarcastically. “I also helped you. I think deserve more than a home in your backpack.”

“Heh.” Tirion chuckled. “I’ll get you that server room one day. For now the best I can do is to not scar you every night.”

The chassis of the bot widened a bit before Ghost scrunched himself together, almost in physical pain.

“ _Ew_. I’ll give up all the server rooms in the Cosmodrome to _not_ know what happens when I get shut off! I am happy for you, but there are uh… _limits._ ” He chuckled nervously. _“_ The Traveler didn’t exactly cover this when he created me and my fellow Ghosts.”

She smiled. “You’re happy for me?”

“I mean… you _could_ have done worse, you know.”

Tirion rolled her eyes and groaned at the statement. “Thanks, _Little Light_.”

“Shaxx is the _last_ person I expected to make _anyone_ happy in that way. We’ve been through crazier things, I suppose. Time travel, Hive gods. Aspiring godhoods. Giant space rhinos. Zavala’s crocheting course. Cayde going more than five minutes without talking about himself…”

“Alright, alright. I get your point.”

Tirion carefully holstered the sidearm, somehow that conversation made her tremble lessen. She considered Titan to honestly be the most _normal_ thing she has encountered in the world, compared to some of the craziness that she has witnessed.

She was still un-moving on the ground, stuck in thought. The Ketch, despite being on the Moon, was surprisingly peaceful, even with the Fallen corpses around. She let her thoughts wander, listening to the gentle hum of the engine. She lifted one of her hands up, and took off the glove. The Warlock examined the pale, glowing skin as if it was the first time she saw it. As much as she tried, she couldn’t imagine having _human_ skin there. Couldn’t imagine being anything else than an Awoken.

“I wonder how she was…” Tirion whispered, suddenly, as she let her hand drop.

“The Exo?”

“No. Pre-Guardian Tirion. I remember certain things of the world before the Collapse, but nothing of who I was, besides the book I… _she_ had.” Tirion explained. “Her name wasn’t even Tirion.”

“I don’t have access to that knowledge. But, what would you like to know about her?”

“Everything, I guess. Did she have a family, if so, what kind? Was it a loving one, or one she wanted to run away from? Who gave her that book? How she was, if she was bubbly or dead serious. And…”

She stopped for a second. “Most importantly, I want to know whether I’ve done justice to her.”

Her companion floated to her eye level. “I think she would be very proud.”

“I hope so.” Tirion murmured, suddenly looking for something in her pockets, almost erratically.

“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

She dropped her hands. “Possibly.”

“Wanna sit here for a little while longer?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

“Get a hold of yourself, Cayde.” Ikora commented, though even she herself was struggling to not smile.

Tirion entered the Hall to the sounds of an Exo’s uncontrollable laughter.

“Guardian! There you are! I have to _thank_ you!” Cayde said in-between trying to stop himself from laughing.

“I can guess what happened.”

“Watchin’ them scatter and scream once she started singin’ made being stuck in this Tower pretty much worth it. Forget all the complaints I’ve ever done about this place. You continue to deliver even if you’re not there. That’s a thing to be proud of.”

Ikora waited a moment until she spoke. “If Cayde is done with _that_ … We need a report on Taniks.”

“Should be here soon.”

“We need _your_ input this time around.” Said Ikora. Tirion didn’t even try to hide the fact that some of her reports were actually written by Huritt, especially those about the Moon and sword logic.

“We went in, shot SIVA, shot Taniks and then he died?”

“I retract my statement.” With that, Ikora looked down at her book.

“Don’t mind her, Guardian. Your reports make pretty good drinkin’ games. But we’ll have something new for you soon since you miss the Vex so much. Get movin’. Oh, and get your friends in here, too.”

“They’ll find their way to you after they purchase new armor.”

Cayde laughed. “Hah. It’s a good thing they didn’t represent Dead Orbit!”

“Cayde…” Ikora started, sternly. “ _Quit_ it.”

“Oh come on, that was funny! Zavala, don’t you think that was funny?”

Zavala briefly looked up from his report and scowled. “I refuse to be associated with this.”

“Same.” Tirion said. “I’ll better get out of here and hide for a little while.”

* * *

“Feeling better?” The Titan kept his voice low, just in case. The Hall was empty besides him, not even Arcite or any of the other frames present. She spent the past few hours hiding around the Tower, because even someone like her wouldn’t want to face two semi-deaf Titans.

But they had it coming.

“The fact that the Traveler didn’t give Ghosts the ability to cure hangovers is why I don’t believe in the Traveler.” She said, walking up to him. “Better now. Lesson learned.”

“Good to hear.”

“Have you been enjoying overseeing the combination of love and murder the whole day?”

Shaxx turned his gaze to her. It has been a long day of overseeing the Crimson Doubles matches while she was out there, and he didn’t need to tell her that.

“There’s been quite a lot to think about during the downtime.” Shaxx answered honestly, watching her as she walked up to him.

“Such as?” Her fingers fiddled with the medallion on his chest as she tried to look past the helmet. The Titan wanted to get the words out, to _tell_ her. But he knew that even with the helmet his words would be nothing but a fumbling mess. She deserved better than that. He decided on something else for the time being.

With a swift move he pulled off his helmet, letting it drop to the floor, not even caring about more orange paint chipping off. He pulled the Warlock in closer to him and captured her in a passionate kiss, right then and there in the Hall, instead. Hoping it could tell her what he couldn’t. It was a bold move, almost as reckless as Tirion, but he never minded bold moves. Things quickly grew fairly heated when he hoisted her up onto the desk with a grunt.

A loud clang outside of the Hall introduced them to a concept called _situational awareness_ and they quickly parted, both breathing heavily.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this in the _Hall_ … With the traffic.” She whispered, out of breath. The whole situation could have been worse, Zavala could have found them.

Shaxx cleared his throat, unmoving, hands still on her waist. “Agreed.”

She let her eyes dart down to his lips, one hand tugging on the medallion to bring him back.

“And then there is the armor and the artillery…” Tirion said, not believing her own excuses.

“Yeah...” He pressed his lips against hers again, cursing the heavy armor. He moved one of his hands to sink it into her hair as she wrapped her legs around him.

“We should really get moving.” Tirion murmured against his lips. “Too risky.”

“And there is the amour.” The Titan repeated her words from earlier as he moved his lips to her neck, reveling in her gasp from it.

“I don’t think you’ve shown me the new armory yet.”

He chuckled. “Would be the perfect opportunity now.”

“Lead the way, Titan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alirght damnit people this is as close to smut you'll get stop asking me about it. >:|
> 
> >:|
> 
> They did the thing in the armory. 
> 
> >:|
> 
> One more chapter and then we'll finally get the plot moving.


	24. For Emma, Forever Ago

The thought itself that she now had a future was a struggle to accept.

Tirion didn’t dare to dream of a future before, because ever since she got revived her future was riddled with fighting. Even with her plans to build a house, a future where she settles down and the world is at peace seemed like an impossible scenario. Her house in the mountains has always been a metaphor, at best. As long as she held it in her heart. There were too many things that didn’t work out.

It all left her rather empty. But now, even with Shaxx, there was a sturdy door before a bright future with dozens of paths. There was still that underlying anxiety, the _doubt_. Guardians have long lives, and they were a struggle to end. He might not want to be tied down. He was the Crucible. Things have been great, _more_ than great. But there was still that slight emotional disconnect.

And now, with most of the threats neutralized, her life was lacking a purpose.

Life was just that much simpler when her anxiety hailed from a Hive god enslaving minions of Darkness for his will, not _love_.

Tirion didn’t know where to _plan_ her life to go, much less take her life in some direction now. It was just _waiting._

She was in her ship in orbit, just laying down in her chair, appreciating the twinkling stars. Letting the ship just float, where ever it wanted to be carried. She hasn’t done that in a while. It always helped her clear her thoughts.

“If I would die tomorrow, what do you think I would leave behind?” She asked.

“A _very_ angry Titan and a sad Ghost.” Responded Ghost. “We can’t risk the Tower getting destroyed. I think it would quite literally take an assault on the Tower _or_ him assaulting the Tower to get him to move from that station.”

Saint-14 left his helmet, Praedyth left his sniper rifle. She wondered what she would leave for people to remember her by. All her weapons and armor belonged to someone else, and she didn’t have a clue how to make weapons and armor. She only had her _legend,_ which already had reached a mythical status.

Shaxx would leave his helmet, Cayde a revolver, or his cloak. Ikora either her shotgun or a book. Zavala would leave his armor.

Tirion had nothing, no _distinctive_ thing. _Maybe_ her Khovostov. It wasn’t a weapon she was famous for using, but it was her most important one, the most personal one.

It was just overall a bad weapon, too.

She would have to come up with something that was better than the damn _Khovostov._

“Set the coordinates for the Cosmodrome, Ghost.”

* * *

“This is where I found you. It always feels strange to be back here. Nothing has changed.” Her Ghost stated, “To be honest, I didn’t expect you to be an Awoken.”

“Yeah…” Tirion grunted as she tried to pry a rusty car door open. “Maybe I fell from a spaceship.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you. Remember when you sought out to kill Oryx the second time, the disappearing platforms?”

“Neither of us are comedians, Ghost. And that was because I got pushed off.”

“Don’t get me wrong. _I_ don’t mind the daily stress testing of my reviving capabilities.”

Once the door became loose, she gently put it down on the ground and peeked her head in what remained of the car. If she was going to be honest, it all looked hopeless. But it was worth to at least _try._

She won’t know what to leave behind until she knows what she left behind the _first_ time.

“What is it you’re trying to find?” Ghost said, as he enabled the flashlight to help her in her search.

The inside of the cars were picked clean by both Guardian and Fallen scavengers a long time ago, only the rusty frames remained, serving as a graveyard. Once Tirion crawled into the frame, she started to look for anything that resembled a nook, a hidden storage space.

“I’m not quite sure.” Her hands moved to the roof of the car, where she found a button. Pressing it slightly opened a hatch, and when Tirion tore it off, bug-eaten documents fell from it. Tirion hastily picked it up to examine it. Most of it was in a foreign language, what she recognized as pre-Golden Age German.

“There is an address, at least… I think. Maybe. That’s in Old _Germany._ This can’t be right. How did she end up in Old Russia?”

“Hm. It leads to the Memento arena. Do you think Shaxx would mind if we borrowed his arena?”

“Call the misfits and book it. I need an excuse.”

Tirion looked around the sea of cars when she got up. The sight was always haunting. She could only imagine the final moments of the owners. Wanting to flee, to end up in a stockpile and realizing that a thousand people have the same idea as you. _Thousands_ of frightened _people._

Tirion wondered how many of them became Guardians, and what has become of them. Whether they’re still fighting or if they were felled by Crota’s blade. Whether any of them fought in the Gap. How many of them are still waiting for their Ghost to find them. There were far too little Guardians around for all the casualties that the Darkness was responsible for.

She knew that the truth was that majority of them have this as their _final_ resting place. No more Ghosts going out, and not everyone is strong enough to wield the Light.

All of them had names. Families. Something that motivated them to try to catch the last shuttle, something that made them afraid of dying. All of them had a favorite color and a favorite drink.

Individuals.

Maybe, her purpose in life was to fight for _them_. Not fight for the Traveler, not for the Tower, not for those who fled to the City from a thousand nations looking for refuge. But, fight for all those who were felled, to make sure they didn’t die in vain. To push back the Darkness in their memory.

Tirion could live with that.

“Alright. Done. Let’s get to Memento.” Ghost said. “Are you alright?”

“Loaded question. Let’s go.”

* * *

“Here goes nothing…” The warlock slowly opened the door, careful to not break it. Though she was sure the misfits practicing outside will find a way to break the whole _building_ within ten minutes.

Behind the door was a dusty apartment, untouched for what looked like an eternity, not even by the Redjacks. The flashlight of her Ghost helped out greatly as she started looking for _something._ The wardrobe was filled with moth-eaten clothes, what used to be lab coats, and dresses. The drawers had nothing in them besides some old ruined books and more clothes.

Only place left to check was underneath the decayed bed, where she found a metal box.

She sat down on the ground after pulling it out, not worrying about the dust on her armor. The lock on it had withered away and Tirion opened it without much effort, not sure what to expect. In the box resided some trinkets and dozens of photos, in pristine condition. The box acted as a time capsule. All untouched since the Collapse.

“Whoa! Rahool would have a field day with this!” Her Ghost remarked as Tirion picked up the photos, fearing that they will turn to dust. “What a find!”

In any other case, Tirion would have glared at Ghost for that impersonation. But she was too distraught then. The first picture depicted a group of four young people at a party of sorts, one of those people in the far left of the picture stood out.

A young woman, human.

Her red, almost orange, hair was loose, framing her face. Her green eyes stared directly into the camera, and she smiled joyfully.

“We found her…” Tirion didn’t expect her voice to be that shaky.

Tirion shuffled through the pictures until she found a picture of the same woman. This time she was alone in a garden, and dressed in some kind of robes, holding a document and showing it off to the camera.

“Congratulations… _Emma Owens_ …” Tirion barely made out the name.

Emma Owens. It felt strange yet familiar to say out loud. Like a name that wasn’t her own but a name she has repeated many times.

She flipped the picture, her hand slightly shaking. The scribbles were smudged, but still readable.

“ _2640\. 3. 6. Graduation! Mom and Dad were so proud. Wish Matthew could have been there to see it. But, I did this for him.”_ Tirion read, somberly. That year was oddly familiar but she couldn’t place her finger on it.

“That’s a couple of _days_ before the Collapse…” Ghost said. “It was the day before Rasputin assumed control of the Planetary Defense Network. The first sign of the Darkness.”

Next picture in the stack was of Emma hugging a boy.

The boy had the same ginger hair as her, and didn’t look older than 10. The young boy had a strange tube coming from his nose, but still had a bright smile on. The both of them were in a room with blinding white walls.

“Oh…” Tirion frowned when she flipped the picture. “ _Me and Matthew. Miss you, little brother. I still read to you every night._ ”

It all dawned on her. Everything made sense now. She had warped everything.

She let out a sad sigh. “Damn it. Just…” Tirion whispered.

The _nightingale._

Emma wanted to be the nightingale from the story. If not for her brother, for other people.

Both of them had their _entire_ life in front of them. Golden Age couldn’t save either one. Not _really._ At best, it felt like Tirion was just using Emma’s altered body.

The next picture was of Matthew, clutching on to a familiar book with his brittle pale hands, _still_ smiling despite looking significantly weaker. But Tirion didn’t need to see it to figure out the puzzle.

“Hm. What’s this?” Ghost said, as he scanned a plastic trinket in the box, attempting to revive it. It crackled to life within seconds as an audio file started playing.

“… _some people think that it’s a gas that’s killing us, that the government is poisoning us. The neighbor is running door to door offering gas masks. Some have went to the church next to the apartment, thinking it’s God punishing us. I… I’m scared, I guess. I was trained to hear these speeches from patients, not to make one myself. I guess my final wish is for someone to find this. To use it to get motivated to destroy what killed us. Don’t forget us. If you find this once the world is at peace again, I thank you. If you’re still fighting, please keep on fighting. I’m going to get to my car and drive as far as the road will take me, enjoy the view and all that.”_

Even through the crackle, Emma sounded pretty much the same as Tirion, but also significantly different at the same time. Exactly the same voice, different person.

“There is our confirmation.” Tirion said, swallowing hard. “There is certain hilarity in this, isn’t there…”

“It’s okay. Guardian.”

It would take the whole day to go through all of the pictures and recordings, and she only booked the arena for thirty minutes. “Ghost, can you see if you can find anything more we can bring home? Transmat anything interesting to my vault.”

“Right on it.”

A picture she picked at random was one of the whole family standing in front of the apartment building. It was odd seeing the buildings without moss or Fallen artifacts. It was dated eight years before the Collapse.

Tirion read the back of it. “ _Day one! Mom and Dad were kind enough to help me move, they’ll go back to London in a month.”_

“London? Oh… The Devils.”

Tirion continued. _“School starts in a week, already got my books, maybe one too many, but you can’t ever have enough. Got two for every subject, both in German and English."_ She paused and shook her head. “Good grief, woman. Even Ikora would consider that excessive.”

“As a side note, can I just say—“

“No wonder that I became a Warlock?”

“Yep.”

She put the pictures back into the box, along with the other trinkets, and closed it again. Her Ghost sent it to the Vault shortly after.

“Alright. I got it all." Ghost informed. "Ready to go? I’ve been ignoring messages from Cayde-6 for the past hour. He’s getting really agitated. Might wanna check up on him.”

“Make him wait. Just for, you know, _fun_.”

It was going to take a while to come to terms with all of this. But, a lot of questions have been answered. She hesitantly left the apartment after dusting herself off. Though something told her that the dust would never come off.

“You should spread your legs slightly when doing that.” Tirion heard Kouhei say, and anticipated the worst when she walked out of the building, shielding her eyes. To her surprise, she got shocked because of an entirely different reason.

Haya was in a Titan bubble, looking concentrated with her blonde her disheveled. Tirion did her best to not make her presence known as she watched it all.

“For _stability_.” Kouhei added, annoyed at Lorcan’s slightly wiggling eyebrows.

Haya heeded, and then put out her arms on either side, trying to channel the Light.

“Go ahead, Lorcan.”

Lorcan drew his scout rifle and shot at the bubble; some shots hit Haya, but instead of flinching she used it to strengthen her resolve and make the bubble bigger. After a couple of seconds, the bullets no longer penetrated the force field, but _bounced_ off. Haya gasped in joy once she realized it.

“I did it!” Haya cheered, laughing at her success. “I can’t believe I did it!”

“Good. I held up my part of the bargain. Your turn.”

Kouhei’s words made Tirion notice that both Titans were wearing Garrisons. This could only end well. Haya’s bubble dissipated as the Arc energy started to crackle around her.

“Okay, so.” Haya started, putting one foot in front of the other, kneeling slightly. “You have to learn to produce many small bursts instead of one long.”

“That’s it?” Kouhei asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s it!”

Haya didn’t even touch the ground when she ran off after the initial jump, using her Light to navigate the arena with grace. She was gliding through the air effortlessly, quicker than any Hunter. Kouhei looked unimpressed when she made her way back. Though even she struggled with halting it.

“I can do that easily.” Kouhei said.

“You can _try._ ” Haya snorted.

Kouhei managed to take about two steps before he slightly stumbled over his feet, deepening his scowl. He tried again, but lost momentum after a couple of steps again. It was nothing compared to what Haya showcased, it was as graceful as a Fallen Walker.

“Alright, let’s take it one step at a time…” Haya said. “No pun. Stop pouting. I see you pouting.”

Tirion just simply didn’t have the heart to interrupt them.

* * *

“I got here as fast as I could, Cayde.” It _might_ have been a lie. “What’s the matter?”

The Exo ignored her dragging dust in his bar, leaving that to the Frames to figure out. He was sitting on the bar stool, drink in hand.

“Hey, Guardian! Care to join me for a well-earned drink?”

It all felt like a trap to Tirion. He was always up to something. She made sure that she still had her sidearm holstered, just in case, before she sat down next to him on a bar stool.

“Cayde, what did you do?” She asked, cautiously.

“Nothin’! It’s a good day! Can’t I enjoy a drink with my favorite Guardian?”

Tirion raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. This is gonna be awkward and I’d say this straight to Shaxx but I’m pretty sure he’d sic a Frame on me again if I’d approach him one more time.”

“Wait, _again?_ ” She asked.

“Getting sidetracked. I’m not a fan of the whole, uh, final death thing, so it has to be _you_.”

Tirion stared dumbfounded at the Exo. “Cayde. If it has something to do with what Ikora said about Strikers and their hands the other day I’m not here for it. I beat you to that joke.”

“Ha!” The Exo laughed. “It crossed my mind, I laughed, but nope. Listen. I’m glad that you make that goliath _happy_.”

Tirion eyed over the sudden increase of decorations, bottles, treasures and trinkets on the shelves.

“You sent me _sixty_ messages about an emergency just to tell me you’re happy that _Shaxx_ is happy? I don’t believe you.”

“You’re missin’ the point. When Guardians don’t get yelled at to the point of _tears_ by a 7 foot Titan, they perform much better. Who knew? He’s still yelling, but he’s yelling _encouraging_ things now, complimenting fireteam efforts, and it’s thanks to you. He’s happy, people are happy, I’m happy.”

It clicked. “So you got paid today and you’re here to thank me for your increased salary?”

“Now you’re gettin’ it! Drinks are on me.”

Considering the day she had, she went along with it and poured her usual drink. Tirion was unable to stop thinking about Emma. There were no memory triggers when she looked through the pictures, just a deep familiar sadness. The recording of Emma confirmed that it was the right person. She decided to take out the box and examine the pictures again, keeping liquor as far away from the box as possible.

“Watcha got there?”

She took out one of the pictures from the box and placed it next to her own face, not needing to say anything more.

“That’s uh, not unnerving in the least. Reminds me of that one time I saw a Cabal without a helmet. You wanna keep a bit of mystery in the world.”

“Yep.” When she put that picture back in the stack Tirion stumbled across the picture of her and Matthew again, unable to look away. Both of them looked so happy despite it all. Only if they knew what the unpredictable future would hold. At least one of them didn’t see the absolute worst of it.

The silver lining of this was that she _finally_ found something to fight for.

“So, what’s your story?”

Tirion sighed. “She was smarter than me. Had a good family. One to be proud of. I… _She_ wanted to be a doctor because of her little brother’s terminal illness. She graduated to be one, and died a week later in the Collapse. Yours?”

He owed her a story, and it gave him an excuse to talk about himself.

“Long story short: used to be a human soldier, more handsome than I am now, and – this will surprise you – I had a large debt. Tell you what, people running some orbital stations didn’t know how to lighten up.” He laughed.

“ _Really?_ ”

“I know, I know. This headpiece was a mistake. Ruined just about everything.” He pointed at his horn sticking out from his forehead. “Anyway, got converted into an Exo for a job to get the debt removed. Though no point in thinkin’ about the rest that happened. Kinda’ kills the mood. Onwards and upwards, Guardian.”

“I suppose so.” She closed the box and pushed it away, sighing. “My solution to feeling sick is to lie on the floor of a ketch for two hours, and you’re a rogue with a desk job that puts debts on other people.”

“Funny how that works. Guess this must mean that Shaxx was a psychologist.” Cayde joked.

She eyed the Exo, curious. “I just _have_ to ask. He sicced a Frame on you?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The date for the Collapse is mostly pulled out of my calculator and the Destiny wiki and might not be accurate but let me live my life.
> 
> Also, it always struck me as odd when the Grimoire entries told over and over that the Awoken were people fleeing the Darkness in spaceships but for whatever reason all races start off the game in the same spot on Earth.
> 
> Also, Bon Iver.
> 
> Also, tonna callbacks to earlier chapters.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos n stuff. <3
> 
> Also Destiny Item Manager is a totally canon thing in my Destiny universe.


	26. After tonight, you're gonna see me in a different Light.

“I… I don’t…” Tirion started, scowling, trying to figure out the sight in front of her. No matter how many scenarios she ran in her head, she came up _worryingly_ short. She didn’t know whether to laugh humorlessly or to alert the Tower authorities to get some people evicted.

“You have a problem.” Tirion tried to traverse through the sea of weapons and Ghost shells on the barely visible wooden floor to get to the couch Haya was lying on. Tirion hasn’t visited the joint apartment in a while, possibly _months,_ but she never seen it in this kind of disarray.

“I don’t have a problem. It’s the last day of Crimson Doubles and we kinda… panicked. Want a pink Ghost shell before we sell these in a couple of days? Would match your hair.” She squinted as she looked at Tirion, tilting her head. There was a visible bruise on the Titan’s forehead, the pink tint of it almost complimenting her blonde hair.

“ _Kind of_?” Haya asked herself before shaking her head. “Having difficulty seeing colors. Haven’t seen this many flickers around me since the Owl Sector thing. Hit my head too hard. And not in the… pleasant way. Heh.” Haya giggled to herself, prompting Tirion to roll her eyes.

“I slept through most of tech mite incident. But, regardless…” Tirion nudged a pistol on the floor with her foot. “ _Really_ , back to this? I thought we moved on.” The Warlock crossed her arms in disapproval. She had forgotten about it up until now. They used to pull this kind of thing all the time before things fell apart. It was muscle memory, but it didn’t mean that Tirion still had to like it.

It was all very simple.

_First step:_ Reaping the Crucible  & its events, the Tower factions, and the Vanguard for rewards. Weapons, armor, Ghost shells, _anything_ went. Weapons were the utmost priority, though.

The Titans were responsible for the Crucible, the Warlocks for the Vanguard, and the Hunters for the Factions.

_Second step:_ Fixing the weapons if there was a need, to make them as good as possible. _God Rolls_ , they called them. It was all based on a joke about Crota that has been lost to time.

_Third step:_ Hoarding the weapons until they either stop getting manufactured, or there is an _“incident”_ at the factory which lowered the quality of the new weapons. Alva was in charge of the _“incidents”_ when they ran out of patience and Glimmer.

It caused a _huge_ demand and nostalgia for the “ _Good ol’ days when that weapon was good, and they went and ruined that weapon and now I’m mad”_ , which lead to the fourth step:

_Fourth step:_ Selling the weapons to Guardians for obnoxious amounts of Marks and Glimmer, underground, far away from the eyes of the Tower. It was _mostly_ legal in the City. Though, their definition of the world ‘ _legal’_ was _“If no one sees us do it, it didn’t happen, and it’s legal.”,_ followed by a shrug.

It worked for longer than it _should_ have worked.

The customers were strictly warned to _never_ under _any_ circumstance take the weapons into the Crucible. Would be too risky to their operation. It eventually proved that giving a hairbrush to Cayde as a Dawning gift was less pointless than them issuing that warning.

At one point, it stopped being about the Glimmer and it became all about figuring out how much they can push it before they can no longer get away with it.

The answer was them learning how to replicate weapons, and accidentally causing Tex Mechanica to start competing with _itself._

Because of the actions of the misfits, Tex Mechanica took _desperate_ measures that involved calling Shaxx and asking him to rig Crucible fights to make _their_ weapons look good.

Why? Because _suddenly_ there were hand cannons out in the field that put theirs to _shame._ Hand cannons that looked suspiciously like their own, but they were too stupid to notice. Their own sales declined as the amount of hand cannons increased.

The misfits didn’t stop because they were on the verge of getting caught. Watching Tex Mexhanica’s sad adventure just gave them something to laugh at. No, they stopped because there were rumors that Shaxx threatened Tex Mechanica with an orbital strike that consisted of 10 Titans crashing through the ceiling of the factory.

And that power was simply something they didn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole made out of The Traveler itself, as people weren’t listening to the warnings about keeping the weapons out of the Crucible. It compromised the fairness of his Crucible, and that’s a well known tale.

What did any of it mean?

Absolutely _nothing_.

It qualified them to be Banshee’s assistants.

But, when they were in the heat of the moment and there was an endless supply of Glimmer, they took it rather seriously and it became more important than protecting their Ghosts from Cabal fire.

“Fine!” Haya budged under the Warlock’s stern glare. “Stop doing that disapproving parent thing! We _panicked!_ How about that shell as a peace offering?” Haya offered, pulling Tirion out of her reminiscing.

“I’m good...” Among the weapons there were also blue pieces of what used to be countless Garrisons. It was better not to ask how many of them got sacrificed to walls. For all Haya’s talents, _halting_ wasn’t one of them. But, the ancient saying was: _If there is a Ghost and a wall, Strikers suddenly have no problems. Besides brain damage._

Tirion moved some of the weapons from the armchair before sitting down on it, praying that none of them were loaded. “Where is your other Crimson Double?”

“Passed out in the other room. 12 hours straight of combat, everything hurts. Life is constant hell. Realized what we were doing 10 hours in.” Haya whined. “Don’t mind what my Ghost says, free me from this immortal coil, Tirion. Pick a weapon.”

“Don’t you have anything _positive_ to say?”

“Uh, we broke Shaxx?”

“I… How… How is that…? _What?”_

Haya burst into laughter. “That’s _exactly_ what he said! I discovered a new trick involving a Fist and a little help of Felwinter.”

Tirion shook her head. She had seen them practice. The mountain had challenged them and they’ve been working on a shortcut.

“Oh no.”

“Oh _yes_! He called us in after the match and _demanded_ to know what kind of sorcery I and Kouhei used, under the threat of getting banned! Was epic.” Haya’s laughter was cut off briefly by the pain.

“The positive news is that we impressed him enough to get both of us hired to work with the Redjacks. So we’ll be busy with that. Assuming that this pain stops.“

“It’s an elite team to work with…” Tirion spoke slowly, as she held up a pink Ghost shell in front of her Ghost before he could make any witty jokes about her own relationship with Shaxx.

All she got as a response was a disappointed chirp.

Tirion dropped the shell and watched it land on the floor. “Congrats, you two. Makes me proud.”

“An _honor_ , really. He also said he might make use of Lorcan due to his success in Salvage. Overdue if you ask me.”

Tirion made a mental note to talk to Shaxx about never, _ever_ putting the Trio in the same room or giving them same work assignments if the Exos and she aren’t there to balance things out.

Haya continued. “Oh, and forgot to mention. Huritt has been busy doing Warlock things with Ikora.” She stopped herself, confused. “It _still_ bothers me. Why in the _hell_ are _we_ decent Guardians all of a sudden? This is _your_ damn fault.”

Couple years ago, all six of them would have laughed themselves to tears at the concept of them having their lives together, about doing something productive and finding a use for their talents. A use for their talents that didn’t involve theft, edging on murder, larceny, two cases of arson, and of course breaking open the Vault of Glass. Both of the women were aware of how they’ve become the people their younger selves feared. Now Haya will be the one crashing through ceilings.

“You’ll always say that and I’ll always have the same response: don’t blame me for this.”

Haya grunted disapprovingly. “You’re _still_ coming here and changing people for the better. _Unacceptable_.”

“Yeah, been hearing that a lot.”

Haya stretched, knowing that at some point she would have to return to reality despite the aching. She groaned when she picked up the first weapon from the floor for inspection. They couldn’t put these in a vault, and there was Glimmer to be earned. To Tirion’s surprise, the Titan started to disassemble the weapon instead of adding to it.

“Can’t wait to start working with Shaxx, though. You know what they say about big Ghosts!” Haya said with a wink, luckily not noticing Tirion freeze at her words.

“I assume you’re not talking about big Ghost shells…” Ghost answered, clueless and curious about the sudden silence from Tirion. He slowly turned his lone eye to Tirion’s slightly clenched jaw, and observed her impressive skill at staring daggers at someone despite being a Warlock herself.

“You know what Crota did with a Ghost to a Guardian, once?” Tirion muttered out the question, almost to herself.

“Huh?”

Ghost laughed nervously. “All right. Let’s move the subject away from very, _very_ tragic deaths of fellow inorganic life forms.” He flied in front if Tirion’s view. “ _Someone_ wants to meet you on a certain balcony, Tirion.”

Tirion stood up without a word, thankful for excuse, stumbling over the clutter on the floor.

“Wait, what do you mean with that?” Haya asked, causing Tirion to walk towards the door even faster. “Hey, what does _he_ mean by that?”

* * *

“What are your plans now, Hivebane?”

“Hm. Been doing some research, actually. I want to incorporate the Raze-Lighter into my Radiance. Or vice versa. Grenades just don’t cut it anymore. I want to frighten some recruits.”

Shaxx shook his head with a low chuckle. “There are times when I regret letting you keep that sword. This is one of them.”

“Don’t worry. You can borrow it anytime you want… _for now_.”

Despite the joking around, his out of the ordinary uneasiness didn’t slip by her. It _never_ did. He was staring intensely at the Traveler in the dark of night with narrowed eyes, as if asking for advice, maybe praying for luck. She might be a heroic Warlock but she has never been a mind reader. There was something about it that wouldn’t let her dismiss it as simply him being tired. It’s been a rough week for both of them.

“Are you okay?” She asked, trying to catch his gaze. Tirion put her small hand on his arm, which only caused him to tense up. He turned to look at her, something was haunting his deep brown eyes. Tirion has witnessed a fair share of outbursts, but _that_ look was something new entirely, she didn’t know how to even prepare.

“I was being serious with that question. Do you have plans to stay in the Tower?”

The way he posed the question made it come across as if there was a continuation to the question, a continuation he didn’t dare to say out loud just yet.

“Oh.” She said. “Honestly? _No_. I still want my house. There is only so much nonsense of this Tower that I am willing to live with.”

Shaxx looked disappointed at her words, but he didn’t know that she wasn’t finished just yet. Tirion moved her hand to his chest plate and let it rest there, slightly above the medallion of his she loved to fiddle with.

“But, if what you’re _really_ asking is whether I plan to stay with _you_ , then yes I am. I promised that you won’t get rid of me.”

He put one of his hands on top of hers on his chest, clutching it, feeling the warmth of her hand.

That, and getting once again lost in her eyes was the encouragement he needed. But, as usual, he just couldn’t find the words for it. Shaxx almost begged the Traveler for a way to apply the confidence he has when dealing with combat matters to _this._ But all the Traveler had to say as a response was to sit there buoyed, unmoving, unchanging.

He knew what he felt, but it also felt as if all words that could do justice to what he felt – and most importantly, do justice to _her_ – got abducted by Vex and were placed in another timeline, far away from his grasp.

Shaxx sighed. “This is frustrating for me, Tirion.”

She felt the sudden and unwelcome apprehension creep in. All this talk about the future and it being the last day of Crimson Days set her mind down the wrong path.

“What is?”

“You deserve far better than a mere _I love you_.” Shaxx said under his breath, absentmindedly. He only realized that he said it out loud when he saw Tirion’s glowing eyes widen as she gasped slightly. He had no choice but to continue, stroking her fingers with his thumb.

“I know how you are, but you deserve a speech about the good that you’ve done for the City, about how your Ghost found you _exactly_ when we all needed you. About… how I _never_ could have predicted that the erratic Guardian who broke a few portals in the middle of the night would become the Hivebane I hopelessly fell in love with.”

That smile that had formed on her face could keep him talking all night long, _just_ to keep her smiling. But, he had to stop at some point. Before he overdoes it, or before Tirion stops him.

“You love me.” Tirion’s statement was barely above a whisper, her voice slightly shaking.

“I love you.” The Titan confirmed, migrating his hands to her warm face.

She was already on the tip of her toes, that smile now inches from his lips. “Well. I love you, too. What are you going to do about it?”

Before Shaxx leaned in and kissed her, he looked at Tirion as if she was the _world._

Though, this kiss was different from the previous ones, even their very first one. His hands on her face were gentle, and it all lacked the usual roughness, the _heat,_ the rush. Instead, it conveyed tenderness that she hasn’t seen or felt from him before. Tenderness that is only reserved for her and her alone.

They parted after a moment, not taking their eyes off of each other, neither of their smiles willing to go away. They stood there for a while in eachother’s arms.

“A phoenix.” She whispered suddenly, slightly dizzy.

“…What?”

“For the renovations. The banner thing you’ve been looking for. A phoenix that fights itself and constantly rises from the ashes.” It made a surprising amount of sense. “You’re more eloquent than me, you can phrase it better. But… it’d be fitting.”

Truth be told, he’s been procrastinating with it.

“If I’m going to be honest, that sounds more like _you._ ” He said.

“Then make it two phoenixes, side by side. Either way, I know it’s not my place and it’s _your_ Crucible, but Eva has been guilt tripping me about talking sense into you about it since she’s waiting for the design. Can’t bring myself to say no to her.”

There were simply more important things to allocate his time to rather than people pressuring him to _redecorate_ his station as part of the extremely frivolous overhaul of the Tower. According to him, the Tower is fine as it is.

It’s been fine as it is since the _day_ it was built.

There were more important things to implement, such as _guns_ for Tower defense, firepower for the Wall, and Redjack improvements.

It all was so trivial, that for the _first_ time since the Tower was built, he actually found himself agreeing with a suggestion that came out of Cayde’s mouth; that he should make a sign that says _“Leave me alone, dregs.”_ made out of revolvers and a few Fallen skulls for flavor.

But, Tirion’s idea might be better, and not even _he_ could say no to Eva.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy RIP MY EMAIL of kudos since the last chapter. :O  
> You guys are too nice.
> 
> Not much actual plot in this one.
> 
> General notes:
> 
> Here is the trick with the Garrison, for reference:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UXcurOFTHoM
> 
> Here is Shaxx yelling:  
> http://destiny.wikia.com/wiki/List_of_Grimoire_Cards/Ghost_Fragment:_The_City_Age_2


	27. No Rest For The Weary

Life had taken an interesting turn in the system. A turn many Guardians long ago considered completely unattainable.

It had reached a point where Guardians were almost fighting _each other_ for bounties and _patrol beacons_. People simply weren’t used to this kind of peace. It all led to a Tower full of fidgety Guardians that didn’t know what to do with themselves, and they made Tirion look _sedated_. Some seminars and classes organized by the Vanguard helped ease the tensions, but there were some tensions only shooting something in the face could fix, causing many to turn to the Crucible.

At first, Shaxx had no problem with it, it was the _opposite_ of a problem. But with rising tensions came more complaints, and he was ready to wash his hands of Guardians whining about excessive shotgun usage, and whining about strange artifacts given to the Guardians by his former mentor. It wasn’t his problem, and they would have to learn how to deal with it.

Even the Fallen were abandoning the Cosmodrome, the Fallen houses were _gone_. All of them. Devils, Exiles, Winter, Wolves. Gone, _disbanded_. No one knew if they were running away from something, or if they have finally given up.

Didn’t leave much for _anyone_ to do, didn’t matter if you were a seasoned Guardian or a fresh newly-risen recruit. Only thing that was left was to do cleanup and keep an eye on the Cabal.

Tirion was more bitter than jealous of the new Guardians, how they slept through the worst of it. She has received a few rather _eloquent_ warning messages from Ikora, about how Tirion should be _gentle_ to the new Guardians coming up to her. Word on the street was that Tirion’s legend was more than some fresh Warlocks could hear.

She heeded Ikora’s request, albeit _most_ of the time. Sometimes it was just too much fun to stare the new Guardians down until they got too intimidated to speak, and proceeded to run into a wall.

“…that just makes me wonder how we survived for this long.” Lorcan added to an ongoing lunch conversation Tirion wasn’t paying attention to.

“We survived because dead Guardians left us tools to use, and because the Awoken sacrificed themselves.” Huritt answered, bluntly.

“We killed Oryx’s entire family and everyone he loved and then we _danced_. We’re pretty scary.” Lorcan argued with a shrug, before freezing as if a realization had dawned upon him. “Wait, are _we_ the bad guys?”

“We used the Sword Logic. Us killing Oryx and Crota wasn’t that impressive.” The Exo told, causing Lorc and Haya to groan. Even Kouhei’s face cracked a scowl.

“Oh, you get _out_ of here with that...” Haya rolled her eyes. “We killed two _gods_. It’s pretty damn impressive!”

Huritt persisted with his point. “We built up sword logic trough most Hive we have killed _. It’s not impressive_.”

“Okay, so then, Warlock. What in the _holy hell_ is sword logic?” Lorcan asked, the daggers he was glaring at the Exo almost manifesting in their realm.

“I’m not entirely sure how I’d put it in terms _you_ would understand…” Huritt said, and the Hunter feigned an offended gasp.

“It means that killing more powerful people than yourself makes you more powerful.” Tirion was the one who had to explain it before they hit eachother, regretting her words quickly as Lorcan began to stand up from the armchair.

“So, this means that we were on equal footing with Oryx…” The Hunter whispered to himself, deep in thought.

“No, not quite.” Huritt corrected him. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I… gotta meet that Wizard that gave me a dirty look.” And with those words, Lorcan was gone, only leaving five of them, his departure acting as the first domino piece.

Alva left without a word, disappearing into her stealth cloak. Haya and Kouhei were next, muttering some excuse about having a job with the Redjacks. Huritt didn’t stay for very long either, as apparently Ikora wanted something, leaving Tirion alone in the Hangar lounge.

Everyone apparently had a purpose in life and a hurry to be somewhere except for her.

She brought out her Ghost.

“I hope you’re not going to threaten me with horrible fashion choices this time around.”

“You sure you don’t want a new chassis?”

“No. I’ve come to like the neglect…” Ghost started to backtrack quickly. “I mean _battle_ scars. I meant to say _battle_ scars.”

She examined the little bot, she hasn’t changed his shell for almost a year now. It still donned the bite marks from the wolf incident, and countless other scratches from various Taken-related incidents and close calls. At one point it used to be blue, but now its original color was hidden beneath countless layers of paint and modifications. She set him loose with a tired sigh.

“I need to get out of this Tower.” Tirion mumbled as she laid down on the couch.

“You could always get over being star-struck and talk to Ikora, I’m sure she would have a job for you.”

“That sounds like an _awful_ idea.”

Tirion never thought she would miss the constant fighting and stress, the fear, the adrenaline, the _purpose._ What Tirion will _never_ miss is her Ghost _giggling._

“Sure you don’t want to give it one more shot? It’s always amusing to watch the slayer of Oryx be unable to hold a conversation with Ikora that includes coherent sentences.”

Tirion opened her mouth with the intent to groan, but only thing that came out was a yawn.

“Guardian… It’s the middle of the day. Get up.” He scolded her.

“Or _what_?”

“Or passive-aggressive resurrections for the next week.”

“I don’t die _that_ often, Ghost.”

Tirion opened her eyes to stare down the bot, and questioned the Traveler’s priorities. How with its last breath, when it created the Ghosts, it made sure to make them expressive enough so that they would be able to look down scornfully at their Guardians.

“ _Fine_. Okay. Let’s go.”

* * *

Tirion decided to put on a helmet before she left, she didn’t feel like being the hero that day. She hoped that she could sneak into a Dead Zone through the Last City, to find _something_ to do.

Something that didn’t have a dozen Guardians competing for it.

Maybe it was time for a new adventure, an adventure that required initiative to find instead of waiting for it to find her. Like how when she was a young Guardian, when she decided to investigate the Vex on Venus just because she was curious. Tirion missed that sense of adventure, never believing that it was fully stripped away from her by Oryx and the like.

Tirion had rumors and leads about some troubles escalating, some remains of Taken that had to be taken care of in places no one was allowed to go to. Might as well be her, the Vanguard would surely understand. There were whispers about a mystery of a lost shard of the Traveler, who knows what kind of secrets it might hold, especially for the Warlock order. The thought almost filled her with excitement.

Perhaps she could start there. Just her and her Ghost, like the old times. Only thing that was missing was a cryptic Exo.

A commotion was forming in the market, and it was loud enough to pull her out of her thoughts. Tirion let her curiosity guide her, it never hurt to know more about what the City was up to. She was one of the few Guardians who bothered to visit the City and didn’t stay in the safety of the Tower whenever possible.

“Gather ‘round! Everyone!” An old man commanded, beckoning with his hands. The old man stood on a makeshift stage that raised him above the crowd so he could soapbox in peace, with two women next to him. They looked slightly younger than him, and there was something sinister about their eyes. In a matter of minutes, he had a quarter of the City’s population in front of him.

“Guardian, take a look at this…” Ghost said, scanning a poster on the concrete wall. “ _Find out the truth about the Vanguard? The City is in immediate danger?_ Uh oh…”

She didn’t get to respond as the old man’s yelling distracted her.

“Gather ‘round! This is a matter of great importance! You don’t want to miss this!”

Tirion decided to watch the spectacle just for the potential amusement. Majority of the people in the crowd were civilians, only about four Guardians were seen. She got the feeling that Guardians weren’t really liked around that part of the City to begin with.

“Is this about the shape-shifting percolators again, old man?” A woman in the crowd asked, already bored. “What did you bring us all the way out here for?”

“No! This is something bigger. Bigger than all of us! I’m glad that you’re all here.” Even though he attempted to express gratitude, his twitching face indicated no feeling of warmth. He cleared his throat and continued on.

“We have _failed._ We lost faith in the Traveler. It’s about time we stop worshipping the _Guardians_ , those who comfortably live in the Tower above. I have undeniable proof that the Vanguard are deliberately _killing_ us. The Traveler didn’t die for that!”

The crowd watching him gasped in disbelief, some burst into laughter and walked away, imitating him in a mocking voice. The few Guardians stayed, crossing their arms in disgust.

But, that didn’t deter the old man. “More importantly, _the_ Guardian is behind it all. The one you worship as a hero, she’s the one who wants us all _dead_! Do you think someone like her truly cares about us down here? To her, we’re just _miscreants!_ We’re just food! We’re just mere _mortals_!”

“Oh, are you _shitting_ me…” Tirion whispered, making sure to not attract attention. “He has _got_ to be _shitting_ me!”

“Language!”

Tirion gave her Ghost a quick dirty look before returning her eyes to the ordeal, having to fight herself to not step up on that stage. Stepping up and yelling would only make it worse, would give him more opportunities to slander her. She wouldn’t be able to have a level-headed conversation in that moment. Perhaps the old man knew she was visiting, and knew how beneficial an angry reaction from her would be to his cause. It was too perfect to be a coincidence. _Far_ too perfect.

“I don’t believe you. She’s been nothing but kind to us, so have the Vanguard.” A young man said from the audience. “We’d be dead if it weren’t for the Guardians. Get off the stage, old man. I’m sure there is a percolator for you to obsess about.”

“Yeah! She reads to my daughter now and then. Half of us wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the Guardian.” Another civilian spoke.

“But that’s where you’re _wrong!_ ” The old man shouted through the yells of the dissenting crowd. Tirion was surprised that no things have been thrown at him yet. Food was too valuable to be thrown at conspiracy theorists.

“The Vanguard have done only good things for us!” A woman protested as she walked away, scoffing.

“Don’t you understand? It’s all part of an _orchestration_ , all part of a bigger thing!” The old man’s pleas grew more desperate as more people started to leave. “ _Why_ do you think Oryx came here? It’s because her own hands killed the _son_ of Oryx! She _knew_ what his death would lead us to! You heard the rumors about the Vault, she was in there too! Don’t let this go unnoticed!”

Tirion’s eyes focused on the group of about fifty people that stayed to listen, the _believers_ who bought the nonsense that was being spewed. They were smiling, nodding, agreeing, and giving the old man energy to continue on with the nonsensical tirade. But, Tirion chose not to listen as she was afraid of the actions it would lead to her taking.

The old man nodded at the two women next to him. They were holding some kind of papers that they started handing out to the audience, even to those that ran away, chasing them down.

“There will be a meeting tomorrow, I _plead_ you to join us. The question here is: are we going to let this Guardian keep bringing in evil into the system? Are we going to let more of us die because of her greed?”

The ones who stayed to listen clapped and cheered, and the old man’s lips morphed into a grin that will haunt the City’s children for years to come. Tirion was surprised that the sound of her rolling her eyes didn’t attract any attention. She kept her mouth shut and accepted the pamphlet once one of the women made their way to her, clueless.  

They had her picture, her name, and a bunch of preposterous claims contrasting against the parchment. She has become the poster child for their nonsense.

“ _Find out the truth about the Guardians, your fake heroes, look beyond the lies the Vanguard are telling you.”_ She read, letting her jaw drop in complete disbelief, feeling a twitch coming on in her eye. “Well, that’s _dumb_.”

“Understatements, anyone?” Ghost said.

“Send this to the Vanguard. I don’t care. Suddenly I want to poke the Cabal with a stick.”

Ghost almost struggled to catch up with her as she stormed off.

“We’re _not_ poking the _Cabal_ with a stick!”

Transmatting to her ship always felt uncomfortable. Tirion took the long way round through the Hangar whenever she could. It usually lasts less than a second, but it is always followed by ten minutes of worrying if she was put back together correctly.

“In all likelihood, the Empire is already on its way, and there is too many of them here.” Tirion said as she put the course for Mars. “So _yes_ , we’re poking the damn Cabal with a damn stick.”

* * *

Tirion had six hours, one too many heavy Synths, and plenty of Cabal to distract her from her thoughts on Mars. That combined with a bottle she snatched from Cayde’s bar only lead to close calls with a final death, but it also filled her with apathy. It was a worthy exchange. Her Ghost honestly had no reason to keep reviving her, but he still did.

Tirion has been trying to train herself, to not let her mind go down destructive downward spirals. So far, she’s been unable to keep the thoughts at bay forever. It always comes back to haunt her. She can’t stop her neurotic nature.

The fact that the people she fought to protect turned against her _stung_. It wasn’t anything a Cabal massacre could mend. But, the conspiracy issue had to be handled by someone who was more objective than her, so she kept herself a whole planet away from it.

Maybe it was some twisted karma. Maybe she deserved it due to her reluctance to accept the “Hero” role.

Either way, she was just _tired._

She didn’t even bother to greet Shaxx as she walked through the door and continued on to the bedroom, where she just let her body drop onto the soft bed.

Tirion heard his footsteps enter the room. “Want to talk?”

“I had a bad day.” Her voice was muffled by the pillow she had sunk her face in. She felt the weight shift on the bed, and a comforting hand landed on her back. Tirion was still in full armor, with the trusty scout rifle on her back and the old sidearm holstered on her hip. Shaxx has never seen her wield any other special weapon besides that one sidearm. Come to think of it, he has never seen her _shoot_ with that sidearm. All he knew about it is that it was a gift from the Reef.

He carefully un-holstered the rifle from her back, making sure it was unloaded and harmless before he put it on the nightstand.

“I heard about the conspiracy going around.” Shaxx said, watching her turn to her back to face him. “No point in letting those dregs get to you.” He lightly traced the glowing, swirling patterns on her cheek with his finger as he said that.

“Don’t you think they have a point?”

“No. They’re insane.”

“ _I_ can see where they’re coming from.”

He smirked at that, letting his hand rest next to her face. “Just because you’re someone that can find a redeemable feature in an Acolyte, doesn’t mean that the Hive are right.”

“I… I think they’re right about it being my fault.” Her whisper was almost pained, a glowing stare fixed on the ceiling.

He could barely believe what she was saying. “They’re _not_.”

“I didn’t do any of it out of malice, but I can’t help but think that if I hadn’t killed Crota…”

Shaxx frowned, with no plans to let her finish that sentence. “ _Please_ don’t do that, Tirion”

She couldn’t stop herself. She had no energy to stop the flood of thoughts that refused to be contained.

“The Monarchy believes that the Empire will attack soon. And well… what two things do all the notable Cabal in the system have in common? It’s kind of hilarious.” Her voice held no humor.

Shaxx didn’t want to answer her rather rhetorical question. One of the things was in front of him, the other thing was that all of them were _dead._ Dead or on the run thanks to her and her team’s efforts.

Tirion sat up and rubbed her eyes, the exhaustion from the endless battle against everything that moved on Mars and her own thoughts creeping up on her. She let her hands drop to her lap and stared at them with an almost lifeless stare, avoiding his eyes.

Tirion had let the past repeat itself, not because she had forgotten it, but because she didn’t care enough to even acknowledge how serious her deeds were. _It was just so much easier to ignore the world._ Now, she was finding herself repeating her sins in her head. Killing Atheon resulted in Skolas’ plan almost being a success, Crota led to Oryx. Who knows what neutralizing SIVA would lead to, and she could not wrap her mind around what the Empire could bring.

It was almost comedic. Absolutely no rest for the wicked.

She should have just taken a nap.

Tirion took a shaky breath. “At least once a day, I go down to visit them. To visit the kids, and the families. This conspiracy nonsense aside, they’re _innocents_ , they didn’t ask for any of this. And they… They don’t deserve what’s coming for them because a tired over-idolized Awoken keeps making things _worse_.”

He turned the Warlock’s face towards him with his hand, forcing her to look at him.

“ _Don’t_ you _dare_ do that.” Shaxx said harshly, “Don’t _ever_ pre-emptively blame yourself for people’s deaths. That’s a path I won’t let you take.”

That anger in his voice, despite taking her aback, was fully warranted. Shaxx wasn’t going to tolerate losing a war before it has even begun. He has seen it one too many times to know that it won’t yield anything good. He wasn’t going to let _Tirion_ fall into that pit. He _needed_ her to know that. It would lead to things that were more painful than a lost war, and he wasn’t prepared for it.

“I know... I’m sorry.” She whispered. “Just let me have a minute where the weight of the world isn’t on my shoulders.”

For now, the best he could do was to be there for her, reports be damned. The factions could wait. Shaxx pulled her small frame into his strong arms and held her tight, resting his head on top of hers.

She sighed after a long period of peaceful silence, the little sound was filled with a feeling of content.

“I’m sorry for my dramatics…” Tirion apologized and hugged him closer. She was surprised to hear him laugh. “You picked the _only_ person with these kind of problems.”

“I don’t mind it. I’ve seen and done worse.”

“Such as?” Tirion’s question was almost a mumble, as she was barely able to get the words out as sleep was quickly consuming her. “And don’t say _falling in love,_ because that’s too easy…”

It was a good response, but not the one he was planning to go with.

He hesitated for a second before speaking. “If there is _one_ bad thing that is a _direct_ result of your deeds, is that Cayde has annoyed me to the point where I have a dozen Redjacks assigned just to hound him.”

Tirion slowly turned her head to look at him. One advantage she had with being an Awoken is that no matter how dark a room was, people could see her disappointed stare clear as day.

_“_ Shaxx… _Really?_ ”

He didn’t even shrug at that. “My excuse is that it’s an excellent way to test their learning algorithm and stealth capabilities. Maybe one of them will explode next to him.”

If she one day flies home and finds a destroyed Tower up in flames, she’ll know which two Guardians to blame. The Empire didn’t seem that big of a threat now with those two constantly feuding. Either the two will set the Tower on fire, or the Empire will take a look at them bickering in the Tower and decide to not even bother, and find a new system to harass.

Even though the thought was rooted in delusion, it was enough for Tirion.

“That’s…” Tirion shook her head, too defeated and too exhausted to even bother. “You should seriously stop before he shivs you.”

“I’d like to see him try. He isn’t tall enough.”

“You’ve sunk low enough for him to reach...” Tirion mumbled playfully, already asleep by the time she finished the sentence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will be coming out a bit slower until D2 is released, but I'll try to make them ultra long instead.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the nice comments. Glad you are enjoying the story!
> 
> I will take this into Destiny 2 and I have a couple of drafts written for it, so this story isn't going away, just a bit of a rough patch until D2.
> 
> <3


	28. Happiness

“Screw it.”

With those words, Shaxx ended the glare battle between him and the poor console, which only offered him a migraine inducing blue light. Guardians didn’t even bother to talk to him that morning, as betting on how long it’ll take until the screen breaks from his stare was simply more entertaining.

The Frames had their orders on what to do, and the Guardians will be informed about the new Crucible rules soon. Guardians needed to be kept on their toes. He never lets their whining get to him, but things were about to reach a breaking point. If they were going to whine, he was going to take away their resources and see how they survive in perilous situations.

The conspiracy going around only made things worse, as rumors have been emerging that weapons have been smuggled to the City and it's been made quite clear that it all went beyond a crazy ranting maniac. The meeting was tonight, and Cayde hasn’t been that overjoyed in a very long time. He took the matter seriously, but he was going to soak in the golden opportunity. He was always of the firm belief that you’re not a real hero until you rouse the conspiracy theorists from their slumber. The Exo was really proud of Tirion. It had taken quite the toll on Tirion, as her face was on the posters, her face was what represented evil for them. A handful of Guardians also fell for their cause.

The trap door below her was slowly opening. That’s why Shaxx had to get her out of there. They haven’t had much time together in between their busy schedules, only the nights and the occasional day off. Days off were largely at her insistence, on days when she notices that he’s been up for almost days on end working. With the maintenance and all the nonsense going around, he’d be a fool to not seize the opportunity.

“What the hell…” A voice he recognized belonging to Haya was heard as Shaxx approached the Hangar Lounge, their usual hangout place. “You can’t slap a bug on your arm and call it armor. That’s _disgusting_! Get it away!”

All six of them were there, with Tirion in the back of the room, grimacing at Lorcan’s new gauntlet.

“Come on, pet it!” The Hunter said, waving his arm in front of a very squirmy Haya.

“Ugh. Tirion, could you please set it on fire?”

Tirion shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s kind of cute.”

The world was glad the Titans couldn't kill people with their glares.

“Oh… _right_.” Haya shuddered. “I forgot. Warlocks wear elk and ram skulls… I don’t mind losing the fashion wa– Would you stop that, ya douche?!”

Lorcan laughed at Haya’s discomfort, as now she was flat against the wall trying to avoid him. Biggest source of her uneasiness was the fact that the insect was _moving._ Titan marks were about representing their clans, their lineage, their beliefs. Warlock armors were crafted with care, with intricate details to help channel the Light, to pay respects to numerous orders. But Hunters were always their own thing. Putting a carcass on a piece of armor was a thing that has become somewhat acceptable, but only Hunters were comfortable with live animals on their bodies.

Shaxx cleared his throat, making his presence known, catching the attention of the whole fireteam. Haya pouted at the sight of the tall Titan, and opened her mouth to speak but was quickly intercepted by Tirion.

“Haya. Nope.” She whispered.

“Sorry for interrupting. I need you to come with me, Tirion.” He rolled his eyes at the few giggles that were heard as Tirion stood up, she didn’t even bother to glare them down.

They were lucky they were skilled in combat.

_Really_ lucky. Haya's next words wore the line very thin.

“Aww, you sure you don’t want a third?” Haya was heard saying as the two left with increasing hurry.

The Warlock sighed trough her teeth. “Sorry.” Tirion apologized, once they were out of sight. “Unless… _No_. Just… What’s up?”

There are some things that are best either left forgotten or be saved for a conversation later. She couldn't decide.

“I’ll withhold commenting on that. Ready to go?”

She looked around, confused. It was not even the middle of the day. It all seemed very odd how he wasn’t doing Crucible related business, or dealing with faction wars. She was almost hesitant to find out.

“… Where?”

Shaxx brought out his Ghost. “You’ll see.”

* * *

She tried to think back.

Think back to what she could remember of her life before she was a Guardian, think back to what she has seen in Emma’s pictures. Think back to the various realms she has been sent to. Nothing compared to what she saw in front of her.

Tirion has never seen this much color in her life. She never thought that a place like this existed, much less _could_ exist to begin with. She looked around the garden world with mouth wide agape, looked at the green sky and the red trees, heard birds chirping in the distance and the rustling of leaves as they fought against the breeze. Tirion hasn't heard those sounds in years.

It was as close to a paradise as humanity could possibly get.

“Thought you might like it.”

“It’s beautiful…” Tirion marveled, before looking over to him with a smile. “And don’t say that it’s not as beautiful as I am. Too easy.” She teased.

“The Crucible is going through some well needed maintenance.” He grabbed her hand and the two started walking through old Vex ruins. “Thought we could spend some time together. Away from it all.”

He didn’t need to clarify any further, judging by her small smile.

“What’s this place even called? Can't say I've read about a place like this.”

“Nessus. Centaur planet, if I remember right.”

Tirion felt like a failure for a Warlock as it wasn’t the ruins that interested her. What caught her attention were the plants, the trees, the _life_. Even with the Vex ruins, it looked as if it has never been touched by the Darkness. Everything on the Cosmodrome was _dead_ , filled with rust and decaying skeletons, the lone trees that still stood died long before she was resurrected. Mars was nothing but sand, Venus was almost a cesspool. Mercury was a machine planet, home to a _cult._

She let go of his hand to kneel down to touch a lone red flower, fingertips barely touching it as this world was too good to be true. She didn’t even notice that she was smiling ear to ear. It was nice to see her like this, and the Titan found himself smiling, too. No matter what happened, she _never_ forgot how to smile, never forgot how to find happiness in the smallest things. Against all odds managing to pick herself back up. Though when she fell, she _plummeted._ Only if she knew how to stay afloat.

“Do you think that Earth was once like this?” Tirion asked, having to look up at his helmet covered face when all she got back from him was silence, as he was too distracted by her being endearing. He pulled himself out of it, as she was starting to look worried.

“It’s... not a Titan’s job to know.” The response came out somewhat smooth.

“Either way…” She stood up and put her hand on the red bark of a giant tree. “Just made me realize that once we win against the Darkness… we could make Earth look like this.” Tirion breathed out, still overwhelmed by the beauty. There was another reason to fight. To fight for the dead, and to rebuild. Earth was full of beauty once, before it got covered with ashes, rust and snow. Once they win, they will be able to restore it. They don't even need to fix the whole world, they can just start with a small patch and take it from there. It would take significantly longer this time around as the Traveler wasn't there to help them now, but it was a _possibility._

That’s what Guardians have been fighting for since the first Ghost woke the first Guardian. Up until Shaxx showed her this planet, she had a difficult time using that as a motivator because she had no evidence that a world like this could even exist to begin with. Everything about it went against all she knew, but it all looked _right._ It all looked like how the world is supposed to look.

She felt his large hands on her waist, and he turned her around to face him. She titled her head to the side, amused at him not even noticing a minor detail. Tirion's own hands reached up to pull off his helmet by the horns. It wasn’t with ease, as it was heavier than she anticipated, and she was much shorter than the Titan and lost her balance. He had to help her out with a laugh on the side, grabbing the helmet with one hand, while keeping the other on her waist.

“There you are. _Much better_.” Tirion put her hands around his neck, not minding his smile a single bit, even though part of it was rooted in him slightly mocking her. Shaxx dropped the helmet on the soft grass in exchange for putting his other hand on her cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb.

The Titan will always find it fascinating how she makes him speechless. All it takes is her looking up to his eyes with her own and suddenly his mind is blank.

Her words and ideas were noble, but she didn’t need to be told that. No words needed to be said, as the two Guardians having this moment of peace was more than enough. Neither of them were in a hurry to be somewhere, no gods to kill, no outside pressure for them to be someplace else. No pressure to do anything else than stand there, holding eachother. Just the two of them, on an almost impossible planet barely inside their own solar system.

It couldn’t be better. Maybe Guardians whining about weapons was just a simple blessing in disguise.

Tirion stood up on her toes and kissed him softly on the lips, the action always making her heart go almost stir-crazy, especially when he reciprocates the kiss. Shaxx pulled her in as close as he could with the armor. A warm palm found the back of her cold neck, and that silent moan at the back of her throat urged him to continue. He may not be a man that has much experience in the feelings department, but he knew what he was doing when it came to the rest.

_However_ , common sense kicked in and he reluctantly broke the kiss before things got too heated. The planet was beautiful, so was she, but it also harbored Vex and Fallen. Just because the planet was mostly cut away from society, it didn’t mean that the two were immune to unfortunate incidents.

That feigned frown of hers and her heavy breathing didn’t attribute _anything_ positive to his decision making skills. She knew what she was doing, but he was stronger. With a slight roll of eyes which caused her to laugh, he picked up his helmet with one hand and grabbed her hand with the other and lead her further into the ruins.

“Come on.”

“You better not say the words ‘ _Crucible Arena_ ’…”

He remained silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sorta unhappy with the last chapter so have just fluff n stuff because there has been a bit too much angst.
> 
> Also I needed a lore-friendly explanation for skill/ammo/weapon nerfs in the Crucible. The answer is of course Shaxx just getting annoyed.
> 
> This might eventually end up clashing with Destiny 2's lore about Nessus but I don't care LOL
> 
> In Destiny 1, Shaxx made the Dreadnaught into a Crucible arena before the Guardian even landed on the Dreadnaught so sometimes lore clashing isn't exactly a primary concern.


	29. Thunder Static

_Tuesday. Week 50._

_What am I supposed to do?_

_Final exams are in three days and the library is under the investigation for hallucinogens. People have been seeing things, and having weird dreams in that place, myself included. They want to put people in a quarantine until they figure out what happened. Talks of the dead walking the Earth and talks of memory lapses.  
_

_They asked us to write down the dreams for research. Though what I saw wasn’t a dream. It was too real to be a dream. I never fell asleep. I don't fall asleep when studying.  
_

_I was all alone in the library, reading. Then, I heard a gasp. I looked over to the source of it, and it felt like someone dumped a bucked of ants on my spine._

_The young woman looked dead, skin a pale blue, sunken cheeks. No better way to describe her than she looked dead. Eyes glowing green, like an animal’s in the dark of night in front of headlights. The cadavers I’ve seen in school looked more alive than her, had more warmth in their face. She was wearing a dark leather robe, with a gold bird embroidered on her chest, and other gold trimmings. The robe was slightly worn, with some holes and tears, as if she fell through a whole forest during autumn. Nothing I’ve seen before, it looked too classy to be cult gear. God knows we get cults around here. A giant white orb tends to result in cults. Never trust a giant white orb that comes from space and gives you gifts. Not that I'm not thankful for the science it has given us, but it's still an alien.  
_

_Anyway, where was I?_

_She walked around, looking wide-eyed at every single inch of the library as if it was a great scientific discovery. As if this was a brand new world for her. Even the wood of the shelves impressed her._

_She acted too alive for how dead she looked._

_When her eyes fell on me, she looked at me forlornly. She looked at me as if she knew my future and beyond, her eyes filled with secrets that would break the world if told, or even hinted at. She had a magical aura around her, her presence whispered things that I couldn’t decipher but I could understand. It was like a metaphor in an analogy.  
_

_“Are you… Emma?” She whispered. “Emma Owens?”_

_I nodded, too afraid of the creature to speak. Surprised that she knew my name. Maybe I was just too mystified, too enthralled. As if one of the creatures from the fairytale books has come to life, to take me on an adventure. Even when she took her eyes off of me, she looked sad, lost. Dissociated. Dissociated in a way that her body didn’t belong in this world, but it was where she needed to be. She was fated to appear to me that day._

_I didn’t know why. It was frustrating to not know._

_I found myself wanting to help her. Found myself wanting to know who she was, how she ended up in front of me, her story. Wanting to know what that bird was, wanting to know who gave her that necklace she wore. Wanted to find more about the bracelet thing on her arm, how it glowed like her eyes. She was definitely real.  
_

_But I just couldn’t get the words out. I couldn’t reach out to her. Something about her spoke to me, I just couldn’t figure out what. But it also froze me.  
_

_She said “I think my heart stopped beating."_

_The rest is a strangle blur._

_Not a foggy memory blur, but as if it’s censored, as if it’s constantly changing, or being actively blocked. Just thinking about it trying to decipher it gives me a headache, like it’s literally in my head, driving me insane. As if a static blotch in time now resides in my brain. I know that she told me something, something important. I just can’t remember it. I hope that I will be able to remember it once the time comes._

The sudden loud boom outside of the apartment made Tirion jump and cry out in fear, before she realized it was just thunder.

_Solar System._

_Earth._

_The Last City._

_The Tower._

_Shaxx’s apartment._

_Not on the moon hiding in a Defender bubble and praying that it will hold against the Oversoul._

Tirion repeated that to herself for the tenth time as the soothing sounds of rain crashing into the window took over the apartment once more. Luckily the lights were still on. The Tower wasn’t the best equipped for thunderstorms, strange considering was it the primary target for the thunder. 

“Damn it!” She swore, almost knocking over a glass over the journal she was reading, Emma’s journal that they found in her old apartment.

Tirion finally opened it after much reluctance, but only read the few final pages. The beginning and middle, the personal ups and downs of Emma’s life, weren’t hers to read. It was almost trespassing.

But after reading that particular page, it was best to close it and take a break for now. Too many things to wrap her head around, too much stress in her head from the storm.

“You always scare me when you do that!” Ghost complained. “Anything interesting in the journal?”

“A headache.” The Warlock sprawled herself on the couch.

She wasn’t going to leave the apartment, not in that weather. Rain was best enjoyed under a roof. Tirion wasn’t comfortable being a Voidwalker either, never liked the feeling of it. The lack of science behind it wasn’t comforting. She already ascended in some way once, there was no need to break the laws of space and time any further. If she could avoid it, she didn’t use it, much to dismay of Ikora. She had no plans to find out how arc and scorch might react to rain.

Another roar from the sky, another scream from her, another reminder of where she was. Tirion _herself_ was getting annoyed by it, it was no different than hiccups. Persistent, out of her control, and always followed by a tasteful noun. She just wanted it all to stop.

The apartment was isolated enough so you wouldn’t hear a warning rumble, but not enough to isolate the sound of thunder. When it struck, all she saw in front of her was the Oversoul with Crota staring right into her eyes. It felt as if she was back there. She could feel the gentle vibrations of the Ward, and could hear the slight trembling of her team as no one was confident that their strategy could work.

“Um... Just checked with Amanda. She isn’t allowing any ships neither come nor go, not in this weather.” She groaned into the pillow at Ghost’s words. “And the storms will most likely be for a couple of days. Oh, and got news from Cayde. The conspiracy theorists definitely want to kill you as they’ve been found with weapons and explosives at the entrance of the Tower. You got this… _you_.”

“That’s nice.” She whispered, and jerked her head up after a moment when the words sunk in. “Wait, _what?!_ _Explosives_?”

“You’d think that at this point they would know that Guardians can come back from the dead.”

Tirion frowned. “Is it wrong that I don’t care?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

She was startled by the door opening, and a grumpy Titan emerged through it. He grumbled as he slammed the door behind him. He was soaking wet, his fur pauldrons and neckpiece were completely flattened by the rain. The armor was glistening wet. The sight was quite adorable, reminding her of a grouchy puppy that accidentally fell in a puddle.

“You’re home early.” She greeted as he took off his helmet, the frown on his face even bigger than she imagined. The paint on his helmet and armor was rain resistant, at least he could find joy in that.

“The Hall _flooded_ and Guardians can’t get back to the Tower to report in. This is absolutely _ridiculous_.” He unstrapped parts of his armor as he stormed away into another room, still grumbling. There has been bouts of rain and thunder around the Tower in the past couple years, but this was the roughest storm yet, at least for her.

She heard the sound of heavy armor pieces falling on the ground and some minor cursing about floodgates, or lack thereof. The combination of Strikers not getting along with water, and rain not being able to be conquered by pure combat, and the fact that it was preventing him from running his Crucible how he wanted led to resigning for the day.

Upside was that Cayde couldn’t even go outside.

Tirion allowed herself to relax for a second, now that he was back, but the sky outside responded with another huge clap, strongest one yet.

“You shit---“ Tirion stopped herself mid scream, and dropped her head into her hand.

_She was on Earth, the Last City, the Tower, Shaxx’s apartment. Not on the Moon hiding in a Defender bubble and praying that it will hold against the Oversoul. Why did it have to scream?_

“Tirion! Are you alright?”

Tirion looked at him through her fingers, he had finished changing into dry clothes before he rushed out after hearing her scream. He looked worried, but he himself was unphased by the storm.

She shook her head, sighing. “How did you learn to deal with it?”

“ _Years_ of exposure therapy, mostly.” Shaxx sat down next to her, a blue datapad in hand. He wasn’t done working. “Differentiating explosives from thunderstorms eventually becomes a crucial skill. Talking helps.”

Tirion leaned against his shoulder. “Then talk to me about something. _Anything_. You have a nice voice.”

He smirked. “So I’ve been told. In various ways.”

He bit the inside of his lip, thinking. Shaxx _needed_ to keep her talking, the periods of silence were the actual problem, and he never minded hearing her talk. His eyes wandered to her hip, where the dull gray sidearm was holstered.

“Tell me more about that sidearm. I’ve never seen you use anything else.” He asked.

“Hm?” Her hand wandered to the gun, and slowly pulled it out. “Petra Venj gave it to me. Didn’t feel fully accepted around the _Awoken_ -Awoken until she gifted it to me. It’s also a good gun. Swift. Fires quicker than people react. Works for me.”

“I’ve _never_ seen you wield a sniper rifle or a fusion rifle.”

She shrugged slightly. “They’re good for their own things. I stopped using Fusions after getting gunned down one too many times while trying to charge one and-don’t-judge-me-Shaxx, I can _feel_ you judging.” She holstered the sidearm and moved closer to him.

“I’m not judging. You play to your strengths. It’s admirable. Better to do that than fumble with weapons you don’t understand.”

Her warmth next to him was getting a bit too distracting. He both loved and strongly disliked her for it.

“I’m sensing a ‘ _but’.”_ She mumbled incoherently, feeling far too comfortable. An arm found a way around her waist, _reluctantly. Reluctantly_ , he told himself. He had work to do, factions not deserving of his time to address.

“ _But,_ Fusion rifles are weapons made for Titans, those who have the armor to withstand the bullets as they charge the rifle. A sidearm or a shotgun is a good choice for you.”

Surprisingly, Tirion didn’t react or move, only let him pull her closer. Shaxx put the datapad away, giving up with the work for _now_. With his free hand, he pulled her in against him until her head was in the nook of his neck.

She shook her head slightly. “You’re so _damn_ lucky you have a nice voice or that would have been borderline offensive.”

“Kept you from noticing the thunder.” He murmured into her hair, stroking her arm as he listened to the rain.

“What?” She blinked, confused. “It hasn’t struck since you came back.”

“It struck three times as we were talking.”

She didn't even realize it.

“Well then…” Tirion smiled, shifting positions to lie down on top of him. “ _Thank you_. And don’t stop talking. But, _easy_ on the Warlock bashing.”

“I don’t know. Warlocks are still better with books than with guns.” Shaxx said, jokingly, almost steeling himself for her response.

“Hm. Speaking of Titan supremacy, how have those dinner parties with Zavala and Saladin been going?”

He chuckled at her words. “I guess I deserved that…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Nerds.


	30. I Better Walk It Back

“Shit. Shit, _shiiiit!_ ” Haya muttered to herself as she took off at full speed, ignoring the regulations about Guardians and usage of their Light skills in the Tower. She cursed Tirion for being right, that eventually everything comes back to bite you. She kept repeating curses under her breath as she traversed the Tower, trying to find the Warlock that could introduce some sense of reason and calm into an unfortunate situation that had presented itself. Haya also cursed Tirion for introducing her to a conscience.

If this _metaphorical_ fire would have been lit a couple of years ago, they would have just shrugged and went on to start a civil war against the Vanguard, under the reasoning of _“Why not?”._

Now, she actually had this conscience that urged her to fix this. How _dare_ that Warlock.

After a week of storms and rain, the sunny day was a welcome one. The bad thing was that the Tower was _filled_ to the brink with people, making it hard to navigate and adding a couple of layers of claustrophobia and stir-craziness.

She found the Warlock in the food district, talking to one of the merchants, and subsequently almost crashed into her. Learning how to halt was trumped by other immediate issues that had introduced themselves that morning.

“Hi. Need to talk with you. _Now_.” The Titan said, grabbing Tirion by the hand and pulling her away towards a hiding place before she had a chance to react.

“Haya…” Tirion started sternly when she found herself behind a tall building with the Titan, away from everyone’s eyes and ears. “I told you that I can’t do that.”

The Titan let go of her hand, looking warily around the premises, tapping something on her Ghost to double check some features.

“It’s nothing about _that_. Is your Ghost tapped?”

Tirion has never seen Haya this nervous before. Usually she’s the one who’s confident and stoic, never faltering. Until she opens her mouth, that is. But now she was almost shaking, looking over her shoulder as if anticipating a knife.

“No. What’s this about?”

“The Vanguard have those conspiracy nutjobs neutralized. After _six_ attacks.”

“That’s… good?”

“Bad news is that the nutjobs used _our_ old weapons, which Vanguard have now confiscated. They’re in the Hall right now.”

Tirion can’t say that the words surprised her. It was only a matter of time. _Nothing_ stays dead forever. Neither of the Guardians knew how much the Vanguard actually knew. Something told her that _if_ the Vanguard knew about everything the misfits had done, they wouldn’t be willing to send her team out on strikes and important missions. Their weapons operation only scratched the tip.

All conversations about this are going to be awkward.

Cayde will probably just laugh, Ikora will kill her. Zavala will give her that disappointed parent stare. The last one will probably be worst of them all, it will be permanently burned into her retinas. Just thinking about it made her feel disappointed in herself.

“Well, _shit._ ” Tirion said, sighing trough teeth. “Are you _sure_?”

“My Ghost can recognize them from a mile away. Randomly started pinging at me about it in the Plaza. There was something weird about it though, but yeah. Our weapons. We’re a… a bit screwed.”

Tirion was lucky that Haya never removed that feature from her Ghost. It was mostly used for the Crucible, to know who to yell at after the match and who to put on a blacklist, occasionally whose legs to break with the weapons if they were a repeat offender.

“I suggest we run away now. I am _serious_.”

Tirion shook her head at Haya’s ridiculous suggestion. It was time to grow up, to move on. To embrace this world where running away isn’t an option. There wasn’t anywhere they could run to, they would be found within _days_.

“No. You’re coming with me.” Tirion started to make her way out of the food district, with Haya reluctantly following with her own complaints Tirion chose to tune out.

There was no time to arrange a meeting with the rest of the team. Better to get this over with now than to wait for the Vanguard to track the weapons down to her and get herself exiled, or worse. With the truth about the weapons will come a dissertation of accusations and arguments that are best left avoided. The conspiracy lunatics using her own weapons against her was also a coincidence that was too big to ignore.

And here she was hoping she could ignore it altogether.

Tirion and her team already proved and redeemed themselves. Maybe she was worried about nothing. The world can’t afford to be picky, and it's not like the Vanguard could revive Oryx just to be passive-aggressive. As far as she knew, her team haven’t gone back to their old ways. If anything they have shown initiative to start their lives over.

“Ladies.” Cayde greeted the two when they made their way to the Hall. Ikora and Zavala were partaking on their own adventures. “What brings you two to a Hunter Vanguard?”

“Curiosity. Might have insight on these weapons.” Tirion picked up one of the pulse rifles from the pile to examine them, just to make sure. She didn’t doubt Haya’s tech, but all things in life tended to malfunction. The weapon was a familiar sight. Lorcan’s special screws screwed on too tight, Huritt’s one of a kind laser sight. The countless little details that gave them a _signature_.

Holding the gun felt _unnerving_ , it felt like holding a _living_ thing. Like a bouquet of nettles in her arms, the prickling traveling from her fingers to the rest of her body, making her skin almost _itch_. She quickly dropped the weapon, not being able to take the feeling anymore.

Something was _wrong_. Very wrong.

“Feel great, don’t they?” Cayde picked up a hand cannon and spun it on one finger. “Lightweight, can knock down the whole Tower without kickin’ like a horse, but still retaining the feel. Haven’t seen these in _years_. And now they’re in the hands of Guardian-hatin’ conspiracy theorists. What a day!”

Tirion hastily jerked her head up at the Exo. “You’ve seen these weapons before?”

“Yep. As a matter of fact, I've been huntin’ the ones that have been distributing these weapons to Guardians for a while, but they’ve gone quiet on me. Hurts my feelings. Thought we had something special. Knew I shoulda went there myself and not send one of my scouts. But with this kinda _very-exciting not at all soul crushing_ job, what can ya do?”

The Warlock was better at not reacting at the words than her Titan friend. Haya slowly started to back off, but was pulled back by Tirion. They were both at blame here, as Haya’s expertise was needed. Never _once_ did they know that they sold some weapons to Cayde's scouts. It was a miracle that it has been two years without them being found out.

“Uh, you two look like Rahool looked when I asked him about some skeletons found on the Cosmodrome. I know that you want to stare at me all day, but it's gettin' creepy.”

Might as well say it. The worst part of it was not knowing whether Cayde had an assassination bounty on them, or wanted to recruit them.  

“You would be happy to know that this is _our_ work. The _six_ of us.” Tirion dragged her words out, delaying the confession as much as she could.

“Ha! _No way_.” Cayde laughed. “I don’t believe ya.” He didn’t even bother to look at her, too busy playing around with the hand cannon, wishing that it would still be usable for today’s threats. The work on it was impeccable, no wonder they were in such high demand back then.

“Alright then. _What_ would make you believe me?”

Cayde aimed the weapon at a wall, looking through the sight, resisting the urge to make gun noises.

“Nothin’.”

“ _Nothing?_ ”

“I’ve been here a while, I know how things work. _No one_ with this much talent in weaponsmithin’ would let go of the operation. At least _alive_.” Cayde put the gun down with one last spin. “Last time I checked you’re still alive and kickin’, and I’ve heard no reports of new weapons being sold. Conclusion: _it can’t be you_.”

Tirion took a deep breath. Maybe this was just a sign that she should run and ignore this after all, as convincing him was more work than leaving it alone would be. She put her hands on her hips.

“You have to believe me. _Why_ would I lie about this?”

“I'll play this game…” Cayde pointed at a weapon at random, an assault rifle with white coating. “Pop quiz. Tell me how that weapon is different from the one Dead Orbit handed out.”

“ _Fine._ Okay. I’ll budge.” It was Haya’s time to shine, as now it had become a  _challenge._ She didn’t even need to pick it up. “New laser scope for accuracy, better stability because we shifted the weights around, better screws so that the rifle won’t fall apart, better bullet distribution so it shoots a bit faster. _Why_ do I remember that?”

It _had_ to be a lucky guess. The Exo hunter narrowed his eyes, and pointed at a scout rifle, from the Monarchy. “How ‘bout that one?”

“Screw that rifle. Either way, explosive rounds on everything, and some tweaks to make reloading faster because… Ugh.” The Titan looked away in disgust, grimacing. “By all things that are left and are holy that thing is making me nauseous. Throw it in a volcano. _Gross_.”

If Tirion remembered correctly, that weapon was the straw the broke everyone’s backs when it comes to even _standing_ near the Monarchy station. Their weapons were especially stubborn and bad right out of the box. It ruined the color red for them.

Cayde’s blue eyes were darting across the assortment of guns, _one_ of them had to throw them off, to call off their bluff. He just had to pick the right one, maybe distract one of them and put one of his own weapons on the table. The question was  _how_ to distract them. Shaxx was gone, couldn't use him. Ikora and Zavala won't be back for a while. Maybe the Frame behind him? But what should it do, run away screaming?

Tirion wasn’t having any of it.

“Cayde, we could stand the whole day here telling you about the weapons, just—“

“You six… you six are The Regulators?” His eyes were as wide as he could make them without the metal eyelid getting permanently lodged when he turned his hooded head towards her.

“That’s… that’s a bad name. That’s just a _bad_ name...” Tirion murmured, knowing what Cayde will ask without him opening his mouth.

“I just gotta ask, why did you quit? You coulda made a fortune!”

“We had two rules, don’t sell weapons to civilians and keep the weapons out of the Crucible. People didn’t follow the second rule so we had to stop out of fear that Shaxx will break off his other horn and stab us in our sleep. We stopped shortly before Crota died.”

Cayde didn’t care about half the stuff Tirion said. “Yeah, alright. Gotcha. You’re not responsible for selling the weapons to those lunatics. _Terrific!_ Hey, could you remake my hand cannon?”

Haya snorted at that. “I’ve heard worse, but _sure!_ Which Tower storage room?”

Tirion rolled her eyes. “Haya, _no_. And no we can’t, even if we wanted to. We don’t have the tools for it anymore and a lot of things needed for it… _disappeared_. In an _unfortunate_ … cleansing fire. So we have no documents about customers, either.”

Looking back, it was rather excessive. But when you have 6 Guardians panicking about getting murdered by a battalion of Titans led by the – _literally_ – biggest Titan in the Tower, sense of reason was compromised. It got replaced by shouting, gasoline, and a Sunsinger’s skills. They managed to pin the blame on a Guardian that had stolen from them. Now, the apartment was remodeled and everything lost to time and fire.

But, oh how things have changed now.

“Well then, Guardian.” Cayde said, slight disappointment in his voice. “Glad you came clean. Wouldn’t want Ikora to yell at ya’ thinkin’ that you got bored and organized an attack on _yourself_. We’ll take care of the rest. But, you owe me a couple of stories if you want me to be quiet.”

“Okay. Even _I_ won’t take on Ikora so all of this is a relief--- can I go now?”

Haya started to walk away before Tirion finished nodding at the question, gone in an instant.

“Mind if I get my Ghost to look at these real quick?” Tirion said as she let her little curious companion out. She wasn’t going to touch the gun again, and Her Ghost could find more than she could. She still couldn’t shake the strange feeling from touching the gun, it was like an allergic reaction except inside of her skin.

“Sure. Go ahead. My Ghost is a bit sluggish with these kind of things anyway.” An incoherent whisper came from his companion. “ _That_ incident wasn’t my fault. Hey,--- _Hey!_ Don’t put me on a timeout!”

Tirion’s Ghost scanned the weapons wordlessly, ignoring the bickering. He was grateful that Cayde wasn't his Guardian. As much as he hated the constant stress testing of his systems when Tirion was out in the field poking the Cabal with a stick, at least he wasn't Cayde's voice of reason.

“There is…” Ghost started, then changed his mind. It was better to not reveal the truth to Cayde. “There is nothing interesting. _Shame_.” Despite his qualms with the term _artificial intelligence,_ it certainly made it easier to lie. Tirion could always see through it, and got the message instantly.

With a quick goodbye to Cayde and a complaint about him being stuck in the Tower from him, she turned around and left. She didn’t know where to go from the Plaza, so the best option ended up being her ship, away from everything. As if she was an autopilot that was programmed by a stranger. Once in the ship, she started pacing, hoping that it all would fall off.

“What is going on, Ghost?” Tirion whispered out the question, skin still feeling weird after holding the weapon. It was still on her skin, still tingling, slowly making its way into her head to reside and never leave, like a _parasite._ She scratched her arms, but found no relief. “ _What_ was with those weapons? I know that I'm not allergic to _metal._ ”

“I didn't want to say it in front of Cayde. All I could gather is that those weapons definitely shouldn’t exist in this time. As if they were _moved._ Like the old rifle of our Exo friend, except the parts are from the _past._ It didn’t _exactly_ match Vex signatures, but those murderous robots are the only source of reference I have when it comes to toying with time.”

Tirion could find sympathy in the Vex, but it didn’t mean that she had to understand how they worked. How _time_ worked. How everything worked. How Emma managed to meet her in her dream. Hallucination. The headache made it difficult to think, much less _comprehend_. She didn’t have to _tolerate_ any of it. Didn’t have to accept it. Realms, timelines, relativity of time, all of it made the world too complicated.

She sat down on the pilot’s chair, shaky hands hovering over the controls, waiting for guidance, from something, from _someone_.

The dead couldn’t remain dead, they had to meddle with time, _too_. Why couldn’t _anything_ stay dead so the world could heal and move on? The key wasn’t to revive everything, the key was to let everything die and recover from the ashes. Certain things should stay in the past.

But, if the past wants to be addressed that badly, she’ll abide.

“Screw it.” Tirion finally said. “To _hell_ with it. I’m doing this my way.” Tirion finally set a course with her tired hands. Maybe they could find some answers or put a stop to it. “We’re going back to Memento.”

“We swept the place clean. What do you hope to find there?”

“A library.”

“That’s the most Warlock thing I’ve heard you s—“ Ghost’s words were cut off as the ship flied off, faster than usual. “You fly too fast, you know.”

“One day that won’t be a complaint.”


	31. Foregone Conclusion

The two landed a not that far from the arena, close enough that they still could hear the gunfire and explosions from the ongoing match. Tirion didn’t know how many laws she broke by frolicking around unsanctioned areas, but she surprisingly found herself not caring. The Vanguard will just have to deal with it if they find out.

Around them was another abandoned city, most of it rubble reclaimed by nature. Some signs still survived, acting like headstones for the buildings. Much like everything else on Earth.

“I find it funny how I have to lead a Warlock to a library."  _Silence._ "No? _Nothing?_ ”

She let her little friend lead the way, following silently, deep in thought, trying to not make the migraine worse. Normally, she’d laugh at Ghost’s jokes. 

“Emma met me.” Tirion said as they traversed through the old city. “She somehow _met_ me. In a dream, or a hallucination. _How_ is that even possible?”

“Clovis Bray, maybe?” She wasn’t sure if it was a joke or not until he clarified. “I’m just saying that you can’t deny that the motto as of late has been _If there is weird Golden Age weirdness around, blame Clovis Bray._ We’ve run into him a lot.”

She couldn’t exactly argue with that logic. “And the motto for the City Age is, _If weird Darkness attacks, blame Tirion._ Can’t believe I have something in common with Clovis Bray.”

They kept on walking in silence, some of the tundra making it hard to navigate to their destination. But, they have prevailed trough worse, like the Dreadnaught, or the Hellmouth, or the Black Garden. Somehow, this trek felt heavier than all of her previous adventures.

“Here we are! What do you feel like reading?”

It didn’t even look like a library anymore. Wooden objects that resembled shelves still stood on the ground, but they resembled Fallen spikes more, minus Guardian skulls. Shelves that once held hundreds of books, books whose loss would cause many Warlocks to burst into tears. She walked around slowly, trying to see if something would trigger in her brain, but found _nothing_. Everything about it seemed wrong, as if she was both too early and too late for the meeting.

“What is it you want me to see?” Tirion whispered to the rubble, going through every inch of it with her eyes. The journal only mentioned a library and a desk, no exact location. “I… I don’t understand.”

Tirion sat down on the cold ground, getting her thoughts in order was difficult due to the headache. Only person that could help her with this was dead, or stuck in a time loop, she didn’t quite know. She found herself almost begging for a sign or guidance from Praedyth, he had to be out there somewhere. This obviously wasn’t the work of the Vex, but intricacies of time remained the same. The concept was the same, though done with different intentions.

Only if Future War Cult knew about this. Tirion believed that their heads would explode before they could come up with a way to misuse this.

She pulled out the journal from her backpack and flipped to the marked page, she paid attention to every scribbled word, every curve of the letters, trying to find a hint but only finding her headache increasing. Some pages after that one were ripped out, the still intact ones were blank.

_I think my heart stopped beating._

Mind focused on those words, actively refusing to admit what they _meant_ , actively refusing to admit what it _implied_. But _why?_ Why send her there, in _that_ moment? What significance did that moment hold? Did they – whoever they are – pick a library just to play a joke, just to make a _pun_? She was almost offended at the very idea. Everything about it was too perfect to be fabricated.

“Guardian? I might have found something.”

She made her way to the rubble Ghost was scanning, and started to dig through it with her bare hands, without further words. She’ll take any glimmer of hope. They found another black box in an old, rotten cabinet underneath it all, but this time around the lock on it hadn’t withered away. The lock almost sang to her, a high pitched note. Gently shaking as if it was struggling to hang onto the timeline, as if it was _straining_. Maybe she arrived just in time.

“Can you open it, Ghost?”

“Unfortunately, no. The pattern is too complex.”

“It’s…" Tirion scowled. "It’s a _lock._ ”

“It’s not a lock I’ve seen before. It needs a code. Just by the way; never let me complain about Hive runes ever again.”

_Of course._

Tirion laid down on the ground, tiny rocks and other rubble slightly cutting into her skin past the robes. She stretched out her arms on either side of her and looked at the bright blue sky through the hole in the roof, past the rebar poking out. It had to be a pattern that only she knew, an order that is like no other. It certainly gave her motivation to keep researching into her Raze-Lighter project, because the organizers of this would make the perfect test subjects. Would be the best weapon to use against them.

_The weapons_.

_The weapons_ were the other oddity of this.

It was just a hunch. But she would suggest _anything_ to make this headache go away, both the one in her head and the situation. It was a puzzle, part of a pattern, _everything_ was on purpose. Whoever was orchestrating this knew what they were doing. She just had to follow the instructions, use her almost non-existent Warlock wit. She wondered if it was too late to turn to Ikora.

“The _weapons_. It probably has something to do with the _weapons_. Did they have any codes in them? _Anything_ that sets them apart _?_ ”

“Each of them had their own ID number. But, I assumed that it was something you put in.”

Tirion shook her head, feeling dirt get stuck in her hair. “No, _never_. Would have been too risky. The proximity detector we put in was the same for all weapons. And…” Tirion groaned, putting her hands on her face. “Let’s just get to work. We’ll be here a while. Give me the list of weapons.”

It was an understatement.

_Invisible Hand, White Field, Harbinger, Judgment, Crusader, Epitaph, One Way Ticket, Doctor Nope, Exodus Plan, Venation, Arma Engine, The Trolley._

Ghost sighed. “… _Twelve weapons_ sounds better than roughly... 479001600 combinations. I really hope that that number is a result of me being bad at math. And I thought _you_ had the hard job.”

Twelve weapons. It meant that there were twelve letters. If not that, than twelve of _something_. The names seemed random, so did the weapon types, and the vendors that they got them from.

“What is it with you and floors?” Ghost asked. “I’m worried that Shaxx will get jealous of _gravity.”_

“It’s _comfortable._ ”

“I don’t think it is…”

“It helps me think.” She lifted up her hand to point at the peaceful sky, a finger trailing a bird flying freely. White trails of ships were seen against the blue, caused by new competitors arriving for the next Crucible match. The world around her almost melted, it was almost enough to convince her that the last three years has just been a silly daydream and the Darkness never came.

“…And the view is nice.” Tirion whispered, letting her hand drop.

The _view._

It _couldn’t_ be that. The world simply wasn’t _that_ stupid.

Whoever was responsible for the puzzle wouldn’t take a break from complicated patterns just to end the adventure on a dumb note. Maybe that was the _point_ , to completely throw off scholars who stumbled on all of this by accident, a way to defeat trespassers.

That _damn_ scout rifle was put there to also throw _her_ off.

“You know… This is so stupid it might actually work.” She said, offering a sense of relief to Ghost, who was procrastinating the calculations. “ _Exodus Plan, Doctor Nope, Judgment, One Way Ticket, Crusader, The Trolley, Harbinger, Epitaph, Venation, Invisible Hand, Arma Engine, White Field._ Do some magic with that order.”

“Just a hunch, Guardian?”

“Just a hunch.”

“It’s an _oddly_ specific hunch. I’ll get on it.”

Tirion held her breath as Ghost calculated and scanned the strange lock. She _was_ out of ideas, and not afraid to admit it. When she heard the click of the lock and the box opening, she allowed herself to breathe.

“We got it!”

She instantly sat up and crawled to the box to investigate it, almost in disbelief. It held the missing pages, untouched by time. Much like every memento of Emma’s. Something told her it was completely intentional. They were stapled together, piled in a specific order so that nothing would get lost in disarray. Tirion wasted no time.

First pages were drawings of strange sigils she didn't recognize. Maybe Huritt will know more about that. The pages after that were hand drawn maps, locations. The apartment, the library, scribbles about Russia. Everything up until then calculated with surgical precision. The lengths they went to make sure Tirion would find all of this were astounding.

The very last pages had Emma's handwriting.

_Day 1._

_She died._

_She died in front of me. I remember now. She didn't want to die. She was so scared, she told about a broken promise._

_And then... she was no more. She ran out of time.  
_

_They tell me that it can be fixed. They're in my head now._

_A message can’t be sent to the past but it can to the future, they say. When I ask who they are no response is given. They are voiceless, yet loud. They almost sound like birds singing.  
_

_Day 2 ends and it starts all over, day 1 begins. Take her hand when you meet her. They’re speaking to themselves while at the same time giving me an order, but they’re not giving an order to me, they’re giving it to her. They're berating me for the mistake I've made. It should be day 3 but it’s day 1. A third outcome is not only unfeasible but it’s abominable, they tell me. The third outcome is only Darkness.  
_

_When I ask who she is, all they tell me is that the Darkness in her is comparable to a moth and old clothes. It's gnawing at her. She needs Light to save her, in a world with no Light. For her, that day will come soon. Darkness. Light. Capitalized, they insist.  
_

_Day one. Day two. Day one again. Day two. One. Two. One. Two._

_Just when I thought it was over, it was day one again. They had me trapped. Day 2 because it’s their second chance. A third can’t exist. They can't allow it._

_The world depends on her.  
_

_Take her hand._

_They tell me:_

_We have given you a task and a lock. We’ll help you when the time comes. Once the task is done, you’ll forget. You’ll forget, but it’s your duty to make sure that the world doesn’t forget. Remember that.  
_

_Day 3._

_I am going to do what I’m told. They’re in my head now, they’re in my head guiding me. Whispering.  
_

_But, no more journal entries. This is the final one._

_I want to save her, but I want to forget.  
_

* * *

“We should go home, Guardian.”

Ghost’s words did little, as Tirion still sat there. They had climbed on the roof of one of the buildings that refused to crumble. The night had arrived, the gentle sounds of night creatures and the darkness offered its own kind of special serenity.

It’s been a while since she had a moment like this, alone in the night. Not since before Oryx fell.

She didn’t understand why she wanted be alone back then. Being alone seemed so pointless now.

It hurt less to look at the moon now, and she found herself finding it beautiful again. Exposure therapy helped, and the Hive had receded for the most part with no gods to lead them. None that she knew of, anyway. There is the occasional attempt to revive Crota, but Guardians are good at putting a stop to it.

But, the case was different for her.

“I’m going to die a final death.” Tirion whispered to the dark. “That bastard Evaluator knew about this, didn’t he?”

It felt weird to say it out loud, but it did bring a level of acceptance. The Darkness has been eating away at her. She didn’t know if it started when she entered the Black Garden or when she traversed trough dimensions when chasing after Oryx. Didn’t matter now. Strangely enough, Tirion didn’t feel bitter. It brought a level of acceptance to it all.

Her Ghost, for once, had no response. They had _proof_. Everything up until then is pre-written.

That they will soon meet a world without Light was just a forgone conclusion. She wouldn’t die with Ghost by her side. He wouldn’t _allow_ her heart to stop long enough to get a chance to enter a strange limbo, orchestrated by who knows who. The journal entry was pretty clear about it all.

The conspiracy theorists were also right about everything. Their speech yet another riddle.

But now, Tirion’s headache had ceased. The puzzle was mostly done, and the final piece won’t be found until much later, until time _allows_. Now, the _true_ waiting began. The world was doing its best to warn her of what’s to come, but it was also _yelling_ at her for the millionth to enjoy life until it happens.

“I used to be so much more high spirited before Oryx.” She said. “I wonder what happened.”

“You were _annoyingly_ high spirited, but… I think that you are happier now. Actually _happy_. When you’re not having to deal with lunatics, that is. Or weird time confluxes. Or one and the same.”

His words were true. She plummets now and then, but she can't deny that she becomes happier with every day that passes. Her family of misfits and a particular Titan are big contributors.

But, biggest one of them all was a friend that never left her side, a friend that she felt guilty about neglecting now and then, a friend that she should treasure _far_ more. A Guardian would be nothing without their Ghost. Tirion hasn’t been the best Guardian to hers. She’ll have to make sure to fix that with the time left, she had a lot to make up to him.

“I’m sorry, Ghost. For everything. I should have been a better Guardian.”

Tirion didn’t need to clarify any further, as she watched her little companion fly a couple of feet in front of her, thinking.

Both of them were aware of what was coming. But, one of them had to be stable and chipper.

Life was all about balance.

What little remained of it, at least.

“I was born the moment the Traveler died, as everything collapsed around us.” Ghost started while looking up at the starry night sky. “Before that day, there had never been a Ghost. There had never been a Guardian. I don’t know much about the Traveler, but I know it made me to bring you back.”

He turned his small aqua eye towards her.

“ _And I spent a really, really long time searching for you. The Cosmodrome? Not the first place I looked. As I saw the other Ghosts find their Guardians, and the centuries went by, I wondered if I’d ever find you. And then, I did._

_Every Ghost is born knowing that we have to find our Guardian. We don't know what they look like. Not on the outside, anyway. On the inside, I'd always known who you were. And that together, we could be something more. Whatever happens… Light or no Light… When you think about everything we've seen, everything we've done, I feel like... I made the right choice._

_Thanks - you know - for being my Guardian_."

* * *

Shaxx was already asleep by the time she made it back home. It was almost morning, and she had spent a bit too long in Orbit planning things with Ghost. Maybe not enough, considering it all. There were still plenty of adventures that they haven’t gone to. It was pointless to wish that she had thought of those adventures before today. Now it was all about seizing what’s in front of her. Old outposts, files, hidden treasures. They have shown tremendous skill in finding Golden Age treasures as of late. Maybe they could capitalize that skill, and get Rahool to put an assassination bounty on their backs.

It's going to be exciting.

Tirion dropped her weapons and robes on the floor without a care and crawled into the warmth of the bed, grateful for a soft surface. He wasn’t as asleep as she thought, as muscular arms found a way around her quickly and pulled her in until she was comfortably snuggled on top of him.

“Hi..." Tirion murmured into his bare chest. "Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t.” His arms tightened around her, but his tired mumble made his statement very difficult to believe.

“What happened in the Tower while I was gone?”

He shook his head and sighed. What _didn’t_ happen? He was sure that Tirion, Osiris and Toland were the _only_ Warlocks that weren't present in the Hall during most of the day.

“Some weapons ceased to exist, right in front of Ikora’s eyes. Cayde whined over the loss of a hand cannon and the Vanguard were ready to get into a skirmish with the FWC.” Shaxx summarized, and he felt her tense up at his words.

“Wait, what?” She regretted sitting up, as the warm arms fell. “The _War Cult_ actually achieved _something_ _?_ ”

It would make sense if they would be responsible for the puzzle, they’ve been experimenting with time, conducting strange experiments to prevent wars. Nonetheless, Tirion felt disappointed if it was _actually_ them. Impressed that they’ve actually done something notable, but disappointed.

“They had _nothing_ to do with any of it. Neither did they want to.” Shaxx reassured her. “They just like to brag that they comprehend time, in order to be self-righteous enough to claim ridiculous feats.” As far as Shaxx cared, that conversation was finished before it begun. “As for the rest…”

He pulled her back in, and turned until he was hovering on top of her, careful to not crush her underneath him. “Only thing I care about is that _you_ didn’t vanish. They were looking for you.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Tirion’s hand reached up to touch his worried face. “I had a thing in Old Germany. I’ll find a way to come back.”

It was the only way she could phrase it to be the truth. It wasn’t fair to him to withhold the truth, but she’ll come back. She’ll make it her _mission_ to come back.

“Come back from what?” He asked.

“Nothing in particular. Just _anything_ that whisks me away.”

The Titan’s fingers were playing with the strap of her shirt, slowly pulling it down, tips of fingers grazing her skin. It was the simplest of movements that did the most to her. His eyes admiringly wandered across her features, down to her licking her lips. “Well. It was smart of the theorists to disappear instead of facing you…”

Tirion’s hand slowly made its way to the back of his neck and she dragged him down to her, a smirk forming on those lips.

"I guess so..." The end of the sentence was said against his soft lips. “Just don’t do that slow thing you did the other day…”  He chuckled at her words.

“You. Loved. It…” Shaxx said slowly, tugging at her lip with his own in between words.

“Oh, I did. I’m more worried about the neighbors because…” His warm hand slowly making its way underneath her shirt made her pause for a split second. “It’s just not fair.”

“ _Fairness_ isn’t _fun_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be it for Destiny 1. Destiny 2 stuff will be in a new work to avoid messiness.  
> Thank you so much for the kudos/comments on this.  
> See you in the next one!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this has some continuity errors! I know that private matches became a thing after Rise of Iron but it was more convenient to the story to have it earlier. This is also the first fic I have written, we'll be fine.
> 
> I love the big goof and there don't seem to be any good fics about him out there (or any that follow the canon and lore anyway).


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